Appear
by Celebnaur
Summary: I fell in love with him, but he was not even from my time. I found him again, but then he left me. And here I am, waiting for something I fear I destroyed. But is 1000 years enough for us to find one another again and be 'lovers' ?
1. Chapter 1

AN: This is based off of the doujin 'Appear' by Cache-Cache. This doujinka is probably my favorite of all time. They have done another doujin called 'RE: Dream' which I absolutely adored, but this one forever stole my heart. I made this fic self-explanatory on its own, but reading the doujin might help. Basically America, dressed as Santa, goes up a chimney that apparently shoots him to the year 1099. He's struggling to get back though because he had promised England that they would kiss on midnight of New Year's. Also, when America is in the past, 1 day in the past equals 3 days in the present. I simply expanded on this doujin. If you have already read the doujin, then you can pretty much skip to the part where baby England goes to his time since I did recap almost the entire doujin in this fic. If you have not, I would prefer if you read this first simply because I did put in some extra historical facts and changed things that lacked sense. I am well aware that young England and America would not have been able to even communicate, but I tried to make sure that the words that baby England used were not coined past the 1500s just to leave some semblance of antiquity. This fic will cover the years as England searches for Alfred a second time.

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><p>1099, The surrounding forests of northern England<p>

He was odd. That was the first thing that struck me about this man. He was dressed in blood red clothes with white furs on the edges, but what made him completely odd was that he was talking to a giant coin that he held up to his ear. I had been hunting in the forests, my faithful dragon by my side, when I heard the sound of a man talking. His English was awfully queer, the way he pronounced things and the device he wore on his face. Maybe he was an angel, he did have a nice voice. Or it was quite possible he was a sorcerer from the isles here to destroy me. I carefully pulled an arrow from my quiver.

"Say, where does your house's chimney lead out to?" His way of speaking was so very outlandish. "The sky above your house is a forest." He was still talking to that wierd coin. I darted behind a bush, closer to the brightly dressed man. "This is an amazing Christmas surprise, but isn't it impossible for me to get back home if the chimney is gone?"

I positioned the arrow onto my bow and carefully pulled the string back. He was in perfect sight.

"Ouch!" He must have had a very thick skull; The arrow barely went through.

"You're not a human! What are you doing here?" He turned around and gasped, before stuttering. He pressed the coin to his ear and began running off. "Wait, you bastard!" I shouted, chasing after him. He yelled into the coin one last time before taking it from his ear, still running like a lunatic. I almost caught up to the insane man when my foot caught. To my embarrassment I fell face-first onto the forest floor. I was in complete pain but there was no way I was letting him know that.

"It does not hurt... It-it really does not..." I protested as he neared me. I looked up and he was kneeling right in front of me. "Ahh!"

"Oh man... Even how you fall is over-dramatic..." I watched his eyes for a moment; They were such a bright shade of blue, as if he had never been depressed. He reached out and stroked one of my cheeks before gently pinching it.

"Huh?"

"Your face is scratched up, too..." I did not like the way he was near me in the least.

"Do not touch me!" I yelled before slapping his hand away and running off.

"Ah, wait!" I ducked into some of the nearby bushes and watched him, making sure he would not pursue me. I was breathing heavily as I grabbed at my quiver. He really was all too frightening. I peeked out to see him some more. He was mumbling into that coin again, but now he was stripping himself of the red garbs he was wearing. He looked worried. Well if he was sent to hunt me, and I succeeded in fleeing, he would have a reason in being anxious. I laughed once to myself and began walking away from him.

After a few moments I began running, my dragon following me with utmost celerity. France had tried to tell me that my dragon was just a rabbit, but it made no difference. It could be a dragon if I wanted it to be. I glanced to my side and noticed that my dragon had stopped running and the next moment, I was falling. The fall was scary, but when I fell on a pile of rotting leaves, and realised I still had my wits about me, I stopped worrying. But I resumed my panic when I noticed I was in a hole. A hole that was easily ten feet deep. Scotland had warned me that he had left a trap in the forests for me, but I just assumed that he was bluffing. I guess not.

"Damn it, everyone is trying to make a fool out of me..." I muttered. There was a small squeaking noise, bringing my attention up the pit. It was my dragon. "Look here!" I laughed several times in victory; He would save me. "D-dragon! Come save me!" The dragon looked to its side, flicked its nose once, and then ran off. "Unicor...?" I had many things I could pretend that my dragon was. I sighed and sat down, leaning against the wall of the pit.

Once again, I was alone. Why did it seem like I always end up alone... I sat for several minutes, hoping desperately that something would come help me. I say 'something' because 'somebody' would be inaccurate. Nobody cared enough to ever help me. William Rufus had only been after the throne. When he was declared king, I was supposed to meet him, but he refused saying that he had no need to meet a nation that had not even proceeded in the pubescent portion of life. It was his people's fault I was this size. I would not be so damn tiny if France had lost at Normandy... Another few minutes passed. Why did it seem like everyone hated me...

I glanced up at the sky and whimpered slightly. The clouds were dark, the low rumbling noises of thunder off in the distant. "Damn it..." When the rain started, I put the hood of my cloak around my head and stared at the ground. The rain slowly poured.

I waited for a few more minutes and still no one was there. And worst of all, I was crying. I was cold and hungry, and I honestly believed that I would probably be stuck here until Scotland deemed it acceptable to bring me out. I hated Scotland.

"What'cha doin'?" I heard a voice say. I glanced up and saw my dragon. But the voice belonged to the face of the blonde sorcerer from earlier.

"N-nothing! Don't come over here because I am terribly tiny," I shouted as he stuck his legs over the edge of the pit. I tried to rub some of the tears clinging to my eyes off before he could see them and know I was hurt.

"Yeah, I know," he replied simply, grinning. He heaved once before pushing himself over the side and landing right beside me. He walked over beside me and pat my head. "But even though you're small, I know that you're a good kid." I stuttered for a moment and stared embarrassedly at the ground. It must have been some trick so that I lowered my defenses and he could take me! I ran to the opposite side of the pit and angrily stared at him.

"You! Why did you come here?" He smiled and held out a hand to me.

"I came here to save you." I stared at his hand in disbelief. No one ever came to save me unless it benefitted them.

"Y-you are lying..." He stepped towards, making me all too nervous. Once he was standing right in front of me, he leant over and carefully lifted me up.

"But it's true!" He laughed once and rubbed my hair. Humming, he examined the pit for a moment before chuckling. "Here, hold on tight." It was then he grew one of the silliest and happiest I have ever seen on another person. He bent his knees, looked upwards, and then leapt. To my surprise, he jumped clear out of the pit. This man must have had incredible strength.

"Amazing..." I said softly, looking at the ground below us. He jumped at least twenty feet higher than necessary to clear the pit.

"And here we go. We made it!" He smiled at the trees and then glanced down at me. I felt so completely small near this man.

"Th-thank you," I quickly said when he looked directly into my eyes. He smiled again and giggled. I think he thought I was stupid, because he held up his hand and said:

"Look there's nothing in my left hand." I watched curiously as he brought his hand behind my head and tugged at my ear. "And now-" he brought his hand in front of my face, "- there's a hamburger!" I had no idea what the hell a hamburger was but it smelled like meat. He began laughing manically.

"H-how'd you do that? Are you a sorcerer?" He kept laughing as he brought me back to the clearing I had originally seen him in, and then he set me on a stump. His absurd Elven clothing were hanging on a nearby branch. I held onto the 'hamburger' and watched as he stuck both his hands behind his back. I watched him intently again.

"And this time... in my right hand." He pulled out something from behind his back. It was a coloured cylinder of sorts and he carefully handed it to me.

"Woah... You're amazing-" I stopped, having not yet learnt of his name.

"Alfred! My name is Alfred F. Jones." I frowned.

"Liar! You are not even a human! Not that care... neither am I... But it would be too good to be true if you were indeed king of the Anglo-Saxons." He stared at me with a blank expression.

"Ah, okay. Whatever, just eat." I glanced down at the food. My dragon had returned, and it was now eating away at one of the herbs sticking out of the strange food. I smiled as I began eating. "But no, I am not king of the Angle-Socks. I am simply a hero."

"What's a hero?" I asked, my words muffled from consuming the magic (Which was strangely delicious). He had summoned another one of the strangely covered meats, but he set it down and looked at me with soft eyes. Extending his hand, he pinched my cheek. I failed to see why he liked doing that.

"It's somebody who helps people in trouble or protects those that they care about. That is what a hero is." I flinched when he pressed one of his fingers over a sensitive spot on my cheek; It really stung. I frowned in confusion and looked at the ground.

"Do people like that really exist?" His eyes widened in worry. "Everyone, whenever they see my face... they all throw things at me, or burn me, or try to curse me..." I sighed and grabbed at my dragon. "That's why I have to be strong, no matter what..." He grinned slightly.

"That's so cool! It's exactly what I would expect from England..." His speaking really was entirely too queer, but what was oddest was that he knew who I was.

"How exactly do you know me?" His face grew panicked and he smiled nervously.

"What do you mean? There isn't a single person in existence that doesn't know about you!" I grinned slightly; I was a pretty well known kingdom.

"Th-that is right!" He nodded his head and quickly pat me on the head. "Alfred?" He hummed and looked at me as he walked towards some of the trees. I flushed slightly and glanced at the ground. "If by chance you lack shelter... it is fine if you st-stay with... me." He stared at me with blank eyes, causing me to feel flustered. "D-do not have the wrong idea! I am only offering b-because I have a spare room!" He grinned and laughed once.

"He was a pervert since childhood it seems..." he muttered, thinking I could not hear him. "If it's a house, then I think I will be fine."

"H-how so?" He took off the strange orange tunic he was wearing and grabbed the base of a nearby tree.

"Turn around for a few minutes."

"W-why?" He smiled again.

"Just trust me." So I turned around. For a moment I worried that he would run away, but oddly enough, instead of the sound of running, I heard a very unique sound. It was the sound that one hears when a tree is being felled.

"A-Alfred?"

"Just stay there, little man! I'll be done soon!" I shuddered when I heard the same sound and became more and more curious every time I heard it again. After about a quarter of an hour, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around to bright, smiling eyes. "I am done!" Alfred stepped aside, and revealed to me a ladder going up one of the largest and oldest trees. Nestled between its branches was what appeared to be a house. This man surely was a sorceror.

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><p>I was sitting on the floor of the small house, holding onto the red tunic from Alfred's previous Elven garb. At first, I had been afraid that the house would collapse, but Alfred had promised that it would not. I looked out the small hole he had left as a window and then heard a cough. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw Alfred smiling at me.<p>

"Are you going to be spending the night here?" I blanched and flushed slightly.

"Is that really all right?" I was startled at how quickly I had answered that, but I honestly wanted to stay around the strange man. He tackled into me, grinning like an idiot.

"Sure you can! Let's get changed before going to bed, though," he shouted, pulling at my cloak.

After he managed to take my cloak off, he took off his orange tunic that had a hood and hung them over the side of the window. I was sitting in my white robe, him in the strange blue pants he possessed. When he had removed his hooded tunic, a little flat cylinder fell onto the floor, catching my attention. I grabbed it, examining it from all over. I recognised some of the Roman letterings on it, but most of the symbols were strange to me. I felt something clamped to my sides and almost shouted out in worry before I realised that Alfred was lifting me up. He set me down on his lap, me facing him. He took the item from my hands and twisted the top, revealing a strange salve interior the item.

"I was just looking at this... but what is it? It smells really nice..." Alfred put some of the white salve on his finger and began applying it to my cheeks.

"It's an ointment that's made using herbs."

" 'erbs?" He put the top back on the item and handed it to me.

"It looks like you have a lot of injuries, so I'll just give the whole thing to you." I stared at it and attempted to open it. After opening it, I looked back at Alfred.

"A-re you sure it is fine?" He nodded and reclosed it.

"Why wouldn't it be?"

"It is just... this is the first time that anyone has given me medical treatment..." Alfred stared at me for a moment as I awkwardly tried to read what was on the small gift. Alfred was about to speak, but a strange noise that sounded akin to a bird-call interrupted him. I quickly ran to my quiver and bow. "The enemy is attacking!"

"No! No, they're not!" Alfred shouted. He rolled across the floor and quickly grabbed me in one of his large arms. He was holding the coin in his other hand. "Yes?"

"Not yes, you prat! You haven't contacted me in three days!" a muffled voice said. It sounded like it was coming from the coin. Alfred tensed slightly, tightening his grip around my chest.

"Huh?" he said.

"You still haven't returned home?" the voice said again.

"No, not yet..." Alfred replied. I wondered if there was a faerie in the coin that he was talking to. "Don't worry, I'll be back for our kiss."

"No, you idiot! That's not what I meant! Your boss is really worried. He said he can't get through to your cell phone, so hurry up and get back here."

"Is that so? That's kind of weird that I am able to talk to you through my phone. If you see my boss, just tell him I went to another dimension through your chimney, so I won't be back for awhile." There was a sigh coming from the coin. "It's fine since it is the truth after all."

"I suppose you're right..." the voice said. Alfred laughed through his nose before holding the coin with his shoulder and cheek. He then turned me around and put both his hands on my ears. I could feel his chest vibrate as he said something.

"Alfred?" I asked, trying to pull his large hands off my ears. I felt him laugh, and then he removed his hands. In one swift movement he slammed against the floor of the room, slapped his coin beside him, and grabbed his Elven clothing. He wadded up the trousers to make a cushion for our heads and then grabbed the tunic for a blanket.

"All right, little man! Let's go to sleep now," he said, wrapping the tunic around us.

"It's warm..." Alfred hummed and then turned on his side, laying one of his arms on top of me. "That hurts, you idiot!" He just laughed through his nose and pressed me against his chest, humming slightly.

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><p>I had awoken whilst it was still dark out, and had carefully crawled out of the wooden house. Once I made it to the forest floor, my dragon woke too and walked by my side. I had spent at least two hours carving acorns. I wanted to give Alfred a present for providing me with the magic food yesterday, so I found a perfectly shaped acorn and carved 'ÆLFRED' into it. It was not entirely too difficult, but at the same time I did have to restart several times. After I had finished with the charm, I took my dragon farther out into the woods to search for berries so that Alfred and I could sufficiently break the fast. I had managed to fill an entire one of my sacks before I decided I could return.<p>

I toted my dragon up the ladder, and to my pleasure, saw that Alfred was still asleep. I stepped near his head, looking down on his coin and the strange device he had been wearing on his face. I picked up the strange thing and tried to wear it like he had been. When the two glass shards were almost adjusted over my eyes, the small branch that joined them snapped. Carefully, I set them down and reached for the coin again.

I jumped slightly when the coin began chirping again.

"Mmm, five more minutes..." Alfred groggily muttered. Panicked, I touched the shining green gem on the coin and heard it make a strange noise.

"Hurry and pick up, you twat!" the voice shouted at me. "What the bloody hell are you doing? Aren't you worried at all? Are you even listening to me?"

Alfred, for some reason, began laughing in his sleep.

"This isn't something to laugh about! Do you even plan on coming back?" the voice yelled, slightly more gently than last time. I glared at it.

"He... He is not coming back," I said carefully.

"Huh?"

"He is definitely not going back ever! He is going to stay here forever!" I shouted.

"England?" Alfred asked, coming to his senses slightly.

"I will not allow him to go back!" I shouted, now flustered and worried.

"Who are you?" the voice inquired. I touched the red gem this time.

"England...?" Alfred started, me turning my back to him.

"A-are you going back?" I was staring at the floor, flustered and mildly hurt. He sighed.

"Yeah, I am going back. Someone extremely important to me is waiting," he said, tinges of hope and happiness in his voice. I looked down at the coin still in my hand, stood up, and darted out of the home.

"Stupid bastard, Alfred!" I shouted as I climbed down the ladder.

"England!" he shouted whilst I darted towards the bushes. I tripped on my cloak though, and I think Alfred heard it since he inquired if I was fine. Embarassed, I ran into the bushes.

"Shut up, Alfred!" I shouted back as I continued running.

I really must have been stupid for what happened next. With the coin chirping again, I fell into the same pit I had encountered yesterday. I had managed to grab onto the edge before completely falling in, the coin still gripped in my hands. Mustering all the strength I could, I carefully pulled myself out, the scratches I had gained from carving earlier opening up painfully.

Worst of all, I was crying. I questioned why I was getting so sentimental over someone I had only known for a day, but I suppose it had to do with the fact that he was the first person to show me kindness. And I was in pain again, but this stupid coin was the one thing keeping him together with that person. I was on my hands and knees, watching the few drops land on my hands. My left had the acorn and my right had the coin.

"I am sorry..." I looked with blurry vision and saw that the voice was speaking to me. "Listen... I do not know who you are... but could please let me speak with Alfred? I have been worried... He's a very important person to me..."

"England!" I glanced over my shoulder and saw Alfred, holding my dragon, not too far in the bushes. I stood up, and glanced at the items in my hands. Gently, I set the acorn on the coin and darted off. I ducked into some shrubbery and watched.

Alfred picked up the faerie coin and the acorn. He began talking to the voice, examining my handiwork. I smiled a little when I saw him grinning at it.

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><p>Sometime somewhere<p>

Dear God on high, it hurt when Alfred fell down that disgusting chimney.

"Have I... come back?" Alfred muttered to himself. He coughed several times before standing up and darting from the room we were in. He slowed down after a few minutes, and began approaching this other figure. He then leant over the person's shoulder and I watched silently as they kissed. It made my chest hurt slightly.

"Happy New Year's, England," Alfred whispered. I worried for a moment, thinking he had discovered me.

"Happy New Year's, America," the other person whispered. They then began kissing again, causing my hands to shake slightly When they pulled apart, the other began talking.

"You idiot... I thought you weren't going to make it back..." I felt like I was intruding on something so completely private, that I was ashamed for a moment. Alfred laughed through his nose and then turned the other person around so he was no longer looking over his shoulder. Now I really was embarassed... and rather envious, because they kissed once more before Alfred placed one of his hands on the other's face.

"Your lips are trembling, you know? Just how long have you been waiting out here?" Alfred asked quietly. There were bright balls of fire in the sky in the distance.

"It doesn't matter... I can't even feel them anymore, you prat." They embraced, resuming in kissing, before the other began to wrap his arms around Alfred's waist, and then I panicked. "...Hey"

"Hm?"

"I can't fit my arms around your waist. You're still getting fa-" I quickly let go of Alfred's tunic and fell on the ground, landing on my face. Why did I always land on my face? Maybe that was why Scotland called me ugly. "A child? Is that the one from the phone?" I groaned and began rubbing my cheeks, looking at the floor.

"I didn't think that you'd find me, but you followed me, huh? That's amazing! I didn't notice at all!" Alfred leant over and quickly scooped me up, smiling and chuckling. I grinned at him.

"Making myself unnoticeable is one of my best skills!"

"Hey, I was talking to you, git!" the other man shouted. "Ame-" Alfred clapped a hand on the other man's mouth.

"I am Alfred F. Jones, okay?" The other man froze for a moment, quaking slightly.

"Al- ...Alfred... You're Alfred," he said, hollow with mild astonishment. Alfred looked over at him, grinning brightly.

"England, this guy is Arthur Kirkland! Ahaha, he's my lover!"

"Who the hell is Arthur? Quit saying such strange things!" Arthur shouted. I did not really like Arthur; He seemed to shout too much, he was queer, and yet Alfred was his lover...

"Lover...?" I asked, flushed slightly. Arthur walked over to us and stared at me.

"Hey me... I mean you, hurry up and go back home!"

"I am not going to do that!" I shouted at him.

"That's right, he just got here. He can't leave so suddenly!" Alfred protested. I smirked at Arthur.

"I don't mind going home as long as Alfred can come with me," I said, glaring slightly at the angry man.

"You can't do that! You're disregarding the disposition of history!" he shouted at me. Alfred laid a hand on Arthur's shoulder.

"It'll be fine, just stop worrying..." he said kindly. And with that, Arthur deflated to a soft frown.

"I'll go prepare a bath. You both reek."

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><p>About an hour later, I was being laid in a soft cushion, my cloak elsewhere, and a small white creature that resembled Alfred on my head. Alfred had taken me to bathe in this enormous white basin with a lot of these strange magic orbs that would disappear if you touched them. After the bath, Arthur had suggested that I put gauze on my fingers, so there were strange bandages not made of cloth sticking to my hands. I had one of my hands being held in Alfred's as I began dozing off. I was grinning slightly when Arthur walked in too.<p>

Because my eyes were closed, I could not really tell what was going on, but I carefully listened. Someone was pulling the blankets over my body and they began conversing.

"So basically... a thousand years ago you came along and seduced me when I was little." Arthur said, causing Alfred to tighten his hand around mine.

"Sedu...? Don't make it sound like I am such a bad guy!" Alfred hissed. Arthur sighed.

"But isn't it the truth?" I heard a small jingling noise, I assumed from Alfred's 'dogtags' where he had also strewn my acorn. "You suddenly show up and then you disappeared just as abruptly..."

"But if I had said 'I am going home,' you would have cried and been angered," Alfred replied softly, laughing slightly at the end.

"That's- uwah!" I felt a rapid shifting as Alfred released my hand, the weight next to me increasing. "You idiot, little me is right over there," Arthur whispered sharply.

"It'll be fine, once a child falls asleep, they don't easily wake up."

"...Alfred?"

"What is it, England?" I twitched slightly at him saying my name to Arthur. The next sound I heard was shallow breaths and the sound of them kissing. I flustered ever so much as I tried to remain stock still, but innards began hurting. Not like they had earlier when I was watching the two kiss, but as if I had to piss.

"You were entirely too glorified... Your face is a lot more stupid than it is in my memories. I think I remembered you better than you are," Arthur whispered. Alfred chuckled, trying to keep his laughter from getting too loud.

"Just how long have you had that memory then, old man?"

"I'm joking," Arthur protested. They shifted again causing Arthur to laugh once. "I understand now, when I was little you did so much for me..."

"Huh? I just wanted to protect you... Even though your body was so small, you still struggled to do your best. You were so adorable and innocent... So I wanted to make you feel even more loved..."

"A-ah... you idiot," Arthur muttered. They shifted again, Alfred laughing quiet little chuckles but then I could not hold it anymore. I stood up and looked over at them. Alfred was laying on Arthur, who was on his stomach trying to escape. For some reason Alfred was rubbing his pectorals. "A-America..."

"Shhh..."

"Alfred?" I asked, the strange white creature still clinging to my head. Alfred glanced towards me, a look of partial shame on his face.

"Eng-England?" Alfred said, concerned.

"Uhm... I have to piss..." Alfred quickly flung himself towards me, both of the men shouting, but by then it was too late.

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><p>I sat on the floor of the room, sipping from the glass bottle as I watched Arthur and Alfred, but mostly Alfred. He had been climbing up that chimney, shouting down to Arthur occasionally. When Arthur had tried to climb up the chimney, a deep voice shouted at him and pushed both men all the way down. Arthur had once screamed at Alfred that if I was to stay here, then Alfred would become one of France's territories, mildly worrying me that these two knew France. Alfred had replied that then no one would say that he had no sense of taste, causing Arthur to yell insults at him.<p>

I was not quite sure what it was I was drinking, but I was starting to feel lightheaded. And it was becoming increasingly difficult to see what they were doing. But for some reason I was happier than I had been in a long time. And then I collapsed on the ground, giggling uncontrollably. That drink surely had magical properties, for some how my clothes had dissappeared and now I was staring at the unicorn leaning over me. Alfred and Arthur walked over to me, shouting at each other before Alfred picked me up and Arthur took my potion.

"He reeks of booze," Alfred said, glaring at Arthur. He looked so lovely... Alfred always seemed to look so. Arthur just made me sad since he always seemed so bitter, but I supposed he reminded me a little of myself.

"Really now... this is bad even for me..." Arthur said, examining the bottle. They began walking off, the gentle swaying causing my head to hurt slightly, but Alfred held me tightly. I shut my eyes for several minutes and felt Alfred sit down. We were finally done moving, thank God.

"If things stay like this then history will change," Arthur said softly. I could tell he was angry; He was always so angry. "Moreover, I do not even remember having followed Alfred -you- back then. We could be creating a whole new timeline if we are not careful."

"Even if you say that, we can't send him back unless he consents to it, England," Alfred said. I perked up slightly at the sound of my name, but the next thing I felt was something cold being pressed to my mouth. I held my hands up and felt a glass cup, liquid slowly being poured. I carefully swallowed a small amount of the liquid.

"It tastes good..." I muttered, trying to down more of it.

"Arthur made it for you!" Alfred said happily, coaxing the flow gently.

"Arthur...?" I glanced over to him. He was still frowning so I looked away, causing him to stutter.

"Little kids really don't like you, do they?" Alfred exclaimed, laughter shaking his chest.

"You loved me when you were little!" Arthur set the drink down on a nearby table as I sat in his lap. My chest... it was in pain.

"I don't remember that at all!"

"You jerk! Nothing that you say is ever cute!" As they continued to argue, I clutched slightly at my heart, worried for why it hurt.

"But I am only speaking the truth, old man!" Why did it hurt like this? I turned and buried my head in Alfred's shoulder, clutching onto the collar of his tunic. "England?" I was slightly happy that Alfred's heart was pounding, but I still questioned why I felt like this. "What's wrong?" Alfred asked, rubbing my back. Arthur frowned and began walking away. It definitely had to be his fault. He did not like the fact that Alfred still held onto me, so he made my heart beat painfully whenever I was near Alfred.

* * *

><p>The next few days were somewhat enjoyable and mildly annoying. Alfred had decided that something called a 'pranking war' was in order for the small rivalry I held with Arthur. Alfred had introduced me to this strange device that would propel water across distances, which became my new weapon of choice in this war. Alfred had also told me to use some hair-removing tape when Arthur as asleep, so we managed to remove quite a bit from the side of his head. One time, Arthur had become so angered with me, he had grabbed me by my robe, and hung me with the drying clothing. Later when he had come to retrieve me, he was kind enough to give me a warm bath and food. I was sitting on the floor of his kitchen as he handed me a small black item.<p>

"Go ahead and eat that. Alfred is out right now, so he can't give you any of his unhealthy garbage," Arthur said. I stared at the item and frowned. Even the little white orb that liked to sit on my head made a sound of fright at it. It looked burnt. I took a bite of the item and scowled.

"Is this supposed to be delicious?" I asked. Arthur gawked and glared at me.

"O-of course it is! You are just used to that trash Alfred gives you!" I stared at him for a moment when something struck me; He was not a sorcerer like Alfred.

"You do not make your food with magic, do you?" Arthur's eyes widened and he stared at me with mild shock. He smiled and rubbed my head once before walking away to another side of the kitchen.

"Tell me, England... Do you see magical creatures?" I hummed and continued eating the item.

"Scotland does not believe me when I say I do. France does though, but he says they only follow me because I am lonely." Arthur stared down into the basin he was using to clean a plate, frowning slightly, an air of discomfort about him.

"R-right..." He sighed and continued scrubbing the plate. "Is that why you like Alfred so much?" I looked at the ground out of embarassment.

"Well he was kind to me, and since he is a 'hero', he likes helping me. He is also always so very happy..." Arthur hummed in agreement as he nodded slightly. "Is that why you love him, Arthur?" Arthur's lips curved into a slight smile.

"I suppose it is..."

The door to the house slammed open and the next moment Alfred was running into the room, bags around his arms.

"I got the groceries, Arthur!" Arthur scowled and walked over to him, taking some of the bags.

"It took you long enough," he said, taking them to a nearby table.

"You're welcome," Alfred grumbled. He too set down several of the bags and then turned to me. "I have a treat for you, England." My eyes widened as I lowered the food from my mouth.

"W-what is it?" Alfred put his hand behind his back and walked over to me, smiling brightly. "Ta-da," he said softly and happily. From behind his back, he summoned a round piece of bread that seemed to shimmer in the light. "G'head and eat that." I took the item and bit into it once. It was sweet and warm and everything else wonderful.

"Fank you, A'fred!" I mumbled, my mouth filled with the food.

"Alfred, why are you giving him doughnuts after I already fed him?" Arthur asked, taking the contents of the bags out.

"Oh come on, man. It's not going to hurt him," Alfred said casually. Arthur frowned and continued taking out the items in the bags. Alfred walked behind Arthur and wrapped his arms around his waist, swaying slightly. I watched, my heart having that strange painful feeling again. I looked down at the item in my hand and sighed. I should probably be returning to my time.

* * *

><p>Alfred and I were hiding behind a bush in Arthur's backyard, the water propelling device in my hand, and I myself in Alfred's arm. Arthur was looking for us around the yard as Alfred and I struggled to hold back laughter.<p>

"Just a little longer and he'll give up and go take a bath," Alfred whispered, a grin proudly beaming.

"Really?" I asked with mild disbelief.

"Damn it... if I don't get in the bath soon..." Arthur grumbled. He began walking off.

"See?" Alfred snickered.

"That's amazing, how did you know he would do that, Alfred?"

"I can see through all of Arthur's habits," he replied, winking.

"Is that a sort of magic too?" I asked, widening my eyes in curiosity. Alfred glanced down at me and rubbed my head, prodding the white blob that liked to stay there.

"I am not really sure if it's magic. Somehow I just know."

"Because... you are 'lovers'?" I asked, my cheeks warming slightly.

"It's probably the opposite." Alfred leant forward, bumping foreheads with me.

"Opposite?"

"I know it because I can't leave him alone... It's been that way since I first met him."

"But Arthur is really mean and he becomes angered too easily. Once it sounded akin to a demon, he was so loud!"

"Hahaha, that is so true!" Alfred smiled at me, gently gripping my shoulders. "He has a potty mouth, he's overly sensitive, his drinking habits are terrbile, he has imaginary friends and is into the occult, he's not particularly honest, he's kind of awkward at times, and he is terrible about expressing his feelings..." It was uncanny the feeling I had; It almost felt like he was talking about me.

"...but honestly, whether he's lonely or happy, I always enjoy watching over him." I stared at him, my face completely warming over. I glanced at the side and then trotted off. "England?" I paused for a moment and began running. "Wh-what's wrong?" I darted into the home and frantically ran to the dreaded 'laundry room'. There I found my cloak laying on one of those demonic devices that always hummed and were warm to the touch.

I climbed onto it and began tugged my cloak out from the pile it had been hiding in. I had to tug with quite a bit of strength, so it was no surprise that when I fell backwards, I pulled several more articles of clothing with me. One of them was Alfred's orange, hooded tunic. I looked down at it. There was something glinting sticking out of its pockets. It was that chain with the pieces of metal he always wore. I reached down carefully and looked at it. Biting my lip slightly, I reached down and unclasped it. Soon after, the acorn I had carved, was off the chain and in my hand.

"What are you doing?" I glanced up and saw Arthur looking at me, wearing a thick white robe. I began stuttering and quickly hid the acorn in a pocket in my cloak. The next moment I saw a second head show up in the door's frame. "What's with all the ruckus, Alfred?"

"Ah, Eng- Arthur." I turned my head and looked at the ground. They really were happy next to each other, even if Arthur was frowning and Alfred looked distressed.

"I am going home..." I said, trying not to make eye contact with either of them.

"Well, that's unexpected," Arthur muttered.

"Why are you leaving so suddenly?" Alfred inquired. I did not think that two weeks really was so sudden, but Alfred did.

"It would not be any good if I just stayed little like this with you, Alfred. I... I wonder if I can ever become bigger... become bigger and stronger..." Arthur grinned and stepped in front of me.

"Of course you can! Because you are one of the most amazing people in the world!" I was startled that those words came out of Arthur's mouth and not Alfred's. Alfred leant down and picked me up.

"Don't boost his ego like that, Arthur. Sheesh..." Alfred shouted.

"I am amazing...? I am, am I not?" I said, slightly more happy now. I turned an looked at Alfred, tugging on his tunic. "We will meet again... right?" Alfred grinned and rubbed the back of my head.

"Of course we will!" He winked at me. "So if you ever meet a little brother, take good care of him," Alfred said, pressing his forehead to mine.

"B-but, I do not have a little brother..." I protested. He then moved so that his lips were on my forehead.

"For now you don't..." he said. smiling against my skin. He pulled back and grinned at me. I was scared for a moment, but I realised that I was most likely not going to see Alfred again for a long time. So I grabbed his cheeks and pulled forward, kissing him on his lips. Quickly, I turned around and leapt out of his arms and looked at Arthur. He was gawking and stuttering slightly.

"I am not going to lose to someone like you, Arthur! Alfred is now my lover!" I shouted, pointing at him. Alfred burst into laughter behind me as Arthur paled slightly. I turned to Alfred, and grinned once before turning to Arthur and smirking. I waved once and then darted to the chimney. The sooner I returned to my time, the sooner I could see Alfred again. So I ran to the chimney and climbed up, returning myself to my proper time.

* * *

><p>June of 1099<p>

I was sitting on the platform of the small wooden house that Alfred had built. In any other situation I would be at the castle, but I needed to escape. The first crusade had been launched only several days ago, causing me to feel rather sick to my stomach. The strange white creature had followed me back to my time, and was currently sitting on my head. It was a kind reminder to me what Alfred looked like. I was not possessing myself with finding Alfred again since I trusted enough that we would in fact meet again, but he did tug at my thoughts occasionally. I was rolling the acorn I had carved in my hands.

"England!" I was broken out of my thoughts and peered through the forests. There was a boy wearing colourful adornments, walking precariously towards me. Only one person I knew would wear such ridiculous clothes and have such difficulty walking through the forests: France. Quickly I glanced to my sides and darted into the home. I peeked over the side of the window, praying to God that he would not see me. He walked up to the tree and gawked. "A home in a tree?" he asked, speaking that dreaded Latin language of his. I was ashamed to say mine had been poisoned by his, but at the same time, it did make communications much easier. He glanced up, causing me to duck behind the wall. He laughed once. "I know you are in there, England!" I walked out carefully, frowning at him.

"What is it, France?" He smiled and walked to the base of the ladder.

"What is this nonsense?" he said, waving at the home Alfred had made.

"A friend had made this for me a couple of months ago." France grinned and climbed up the ladder before sitting himself beside me.

"You made a friend finally?" he asked, chuckling slightly. I frowned and looked at the acorn still in my hand.

"Yes..."

"Well then why are you so sad looking?"

"I also had my first kiss..." France's expression softened and he rubbed my back.

"That still does not answer why you are sad! Did the person melt away afterwards?" I hit France's shoulder, scowling now.

"No... It was a farewell kiss..." France smiled slightly.

"Oh, I am sorry, England... Love is cruel, no?" I nodded and began turning the acorn in my hand. "What is that?" he asked, pointing at it.

"It was something I had made for him..." If France and I were humans, the fact that I had admitted that I had kissed a man may have been something to be more ashamed about, but France and I both knew that our kind was mostly male and restricted us to such quite often. I did not know if Alfred was a representation to a race though, I just knew he was not human either.

"Ah... Then why do you have possession of it?"

"I had taken it back before we parted so that I could remember his name. Not that I was honestly going to forget anyway... But it helps me remember why I-" France plucked it from my hand. "H-hey! Gi-"

"Calm yourself, I have an idea," France said, smiling slightly. He clambered down the ladder as I followed. He then kneeled, his repugnantly coloured clothing causing some leaves and dirt to stick to it. He prodded at the dirt with his fingers until there was a hole about five inches deep. Carefully he put the acorn into the hole and covered it with the earth he had removed earlier. "An acorn can only last so long... a mighty tree can live for decades and even for centuries." I glanced at France. He was smiling kindly at the mound.

"Why are you doing that?" He looked up at me, startled slightly.

"Doing what?" I frowned.

"Thinking of something kind to do for me," I replied, confused. France sighed and leant backwards so that he was laying on the ground.

"We are allies now. I figure that maybe we should stop our bickering for the time being." I walked over to him and looked down at him. His long blonde hair was splayed out on the ground and he was smiling ever so.

"Even though we are allies, I still hate you." France laughed through his nose and waved at me.

"Of course, of course. You sold your heart to someone, and now you refuse to share any love with anyone else." I widened my eyes and sat down.

"What do you mean, France?" He exhaled and turned onto his side.

"I know that you hate me, and I hate you, but I cannot help but feel that at the same time we are friends. We both have been through many hardships, you know?"

"What have you honestly been through that could compare to my troubles?" France frowned and began playing with a blade of grass.

"My grandfather was a very powerful man, you know?" I nodded; My mother had been under France's grandfather many years ago. "But even he, the mighty Roman Empire, fell and then went into hiding. But what bothered me the most, was that afterwards, I was separated from my own brothers. My grandfather is still alive, but I have not seen him in many years..."

"How does this trouble you so?"

"My grandfather is a loving man... But he often runs from what he does not like. I was hoping that by conquering you, he would come praise me since he had done the same many years ago... But he has not... I do not think he will." I looked at France, who was now staring at the ground. I sat down and layed my hand on his head. I did hate France, but people that were hurting needed to be comforted; I knew this better than anyone.

* * *

><p>April of 1124<p>

"Hello there, sorry for not having seen you in quite a bit. I believe it has been almost a year... Ah what the hell am I doing... I am talking to a tree..." I glanced up at the tree which was easily towering over me. I supposed it would not hurt me to continue. "There is a new king of Scotland, and King Henry stopped a rebellion... Not much has really changed..." I chuckled to myself. "Except for you, you have grown incredibly so..." I placed a hand on it. "I have grown an inch since I saw you last..." I took my hand off of the still rather young tree and looked off to my side. The home Alfred had made was overrun with foliage, worrying me for a moment. I ran to it and tried to climb up the ladder. It was rather tedious since some of the rungs were rotting and falling off, but I managed to bring myself onto the platform. I overlooked the clearing. I had only grown about a foot in the past twenty-five years, but yet that was an accomplishment for me. France had grown just as much though, keeping me from making any progress in regards to equality with the bastard. I reached into the pocket of my cloak and carefully pulled out the smiling white orb that had been with me all these years. I turned it so that it was facing me and quickly grinned at it.

"You want to do something enjoyable, smiling flour ball?" It nodded at me and licked my hand once. Grinning, I set it on the platform and reached at my quiver. I pulled out my bow and a single arrow. With one hand I held both the items and with the other I grabbed the creature. "Think you can sit on this arrow as I shoot it?" The little orb nodded again and hopped onto the arrow I was readying in my bow. It then sunk slightly until it was surrounding the arrow, appearing as if I had pierced the creature already.

"I am amorphous!" it screeched.

"Ah... I am not quite sure what that means, but good for you," I replied to the thing. It smiled. Pulling the string back, I watched as the creature opened its mouth in a smile, pinching its eyes shut.

"G'head and do it! It will be okey since I'm American!" The creature really was difficult to understand at times.

"What is an American?" I asked, aiming the arrow with one of my eyes shut.

"It is what I am!"

"Ah," and with that, I released the arrow and watched as it landed firmly in the bark of the tree. The creature dripped off of it, making a noise somewhat akin to laughter. Quickly I leapt off the side of the platform and grabbed the shaft to my arrow. "This would be so much easier if I just had my knife..." I muttered. Pulling with all my strength, I brought the arrow down in a straight line before stabbing it where I started. I then brought it down in another line the was tilting to the other. After several more lines I examined my work. There was the symbol 'Æ' carved perfectly into the trunk of the tree.

I glanced down in shock when I felt the orb licking at my feet. I smiled and picked it up. "Look what I made," I said, turning the thing so that it could look at the carving. It just upturned its brows in confusion. "Ah, nevermind..." I said bringing it back down.

The sound of distant cheering and instruments snapped my attention out of my admiration. "I guess we should return now, it sounds like they are announcing something. The creature turned around and looked intently at me, almost sorrowfully.

"I miss America," it said rather sadly.

"Is that where Alfred is from?" It nodded and looked at the ground. "Well I promise you, the moment I find out how to travel to that land, I will take you there." Its eyes widened and it looked at me with happiness. The thing's eyes really were beautiful when it was happy. I wondered if mine were like that when I smiled.

* * *

><p>June of 1215, Runnymede<p>

It was rather frightening to see all of this. Wales had told me he himself was not that worried about this, but even though I had witnessed many rebellions, never was there one as successful as this one. I was leaning against a tree in a meadow that was completely filled with seething barons, observant abbots, and one entirely flustered king. I had been told by several of the abbots that the current state of all the men in the area was not safe for a child only a decade old, but thankfully Wales was there holding my hand and helping me convince the others that I was allowed there.

I somewhat admired Wales; He was definitely more pleasureable than Scotland or Ireland, but at the same time I probably knew him the least out of my brothers.

The barons were now yelling and screaming at King John, hurting my ears slightly and worrying me. What would happen with this rebellion succeeding? Would a new government be formed and completely restart the kingdom, destroying me in the process? I have to admit that it was most likely paranoia that was acting up on me, but this was still a possibility. One of the taller barons obstructed my view of the king, keeping me in a momentary state of confusion. I tugged on Wales' tunic.

"I cannot see, Wales," I whispered harshly. He was not much taller than I, but I knew that he could probably see.

"Nothing of importance is happening at the moment," he said, his voice flat and not showing any emotion. I frowned and watched the back of the baron that was now annoying me.

"Do we not get any say in this matter?" I asked. Sometimes I felt that even as a nation, we were oppressed more than humans. We had to fight in countless more wars knowing that there was no way to end our life, we saw the many instances of sorrow tug at us, knew what it felt like to have thousands of people completely adore you and millions of others abhor you. I was not suicidal, but I knew that all nations at times wearied of the life that dragged on with them. And it physically hurt us when our citizens starved, our government was being upturned, and our trade failed; All things that we could not control and would last for decades, quite unlike the human's diseases which could be treated with balms and salves and tonics. We vomited when our leaders gave away our land, and had headaches when we gained. Right now I was rather worried for myself, so I clenched my hand tighter around Wales'.

Wales tugged on my hand and led me to the edge of the group. Together we wove through the angry and shouting men until we were successfully able to view the king. A baron was shouting at him.

"It is through lying and cowardly kings like you that our kingdom is unhappy and rebellious! You question why we come to you today, but your eyes are so glazed over in your own pride and arrogance that you fail to understand that it is because of your own doing!" The baron put both of his hands behind his back and paced in front of the stone that King John was sitting next to on a wooden chair. "Do you not question why France and Scotland bother our land? It is because they see the disorder that is brought about by idiotic thinking and poor judgement!" He gestured a hand towards me. "Do you not even recognise the representation of your own land?" King John looked at me, confusion and a look that is given between those who are strangers. "You prideful kings have only sought what would benefit you, not even caring about those you bound yourselves to with obligations or even the well being of your citizens! A king's job is to better his land, and in the past three centuries, the soul of land has only aged physically five years!" I stuttered for a moment, and for a second multiple pairs of eyes were on me. My face turned red in embarassment and I was tempted to run off right then and there. It was then that I inhaled sharply and released Wales' hand and walked to the center of the area, beside the baron and in front of my king. I cleared my throat and stared intently at all of them.

"Although it may be true that I have grown only slightly in the past centuries, I must say that I am mentally and emotionally stronger than any human and many of my fellow nations. When the Normans overtook me, I simply fought on my own and strengthened myself. Centuries ago, when the Picts attacked me constantly, I was no more than a small child, but I participated with my people nonetheless. And when I was being fed by my mother on the southern shores, I saw the sorrow in her eyes as she was bound to the Roman Empire." I turned to the Baron. "Yes kings like him and several others have refrained me from physically progressing, but believe me when I say that I am probably the strongest person here, save for my brother." The baron laughed nervously, placing a hand on my shoulder.

"I was not implying that you were weak in the least, rather I was saying that there is enormous potential for you to become something of legends! Any sane man loves the land he was born in, and I am no exception! I simply desire that we have more wise men on the throne to improve upon you!"

"A great nation will not rely so heavily on its government to make it great, rather the people themselves will do that. I see that that is possibly what you are doing today, but instead of relying on your fellow Englishman to better this land, you are trusting in some future king that you hope to crown. I understand that a monarchy is something expected in us, but perhaps people that come from a specific area, much like I am the soul of the land of England, meet for matters."

"A council?" a man in the background asked.

"Perhaps, a Great Council. The Romans had a word; Parliamentum," another said. "They used it to describe something similar." I smiled as ideas were thrown across the heads of the different men. Perhaps something positive would come to me from this whole ordeal. Something that would actually help me.

* * *

><p>1.) England's mother is Britannia. Britannia had in fact been under the Roman empire. If you remember in the anime, Rome was still alive well into the Renassaince, meaning that he would have been alive in 1099. I am just assuming that he lingered near his capital, teaching his two favorite grandsons about art.<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

December of 1316, London

I clenched my stomach in pain, trying to hold back tears. I was walking down the streets of my capital, listening to the morbid sound of an occasional moan. There were children digging in the dirt. I watched and scowled when one pulled out some kind of insect and quickly ingested it. I pressed my hands against my ribs and sighed. I could feel each one jutting out, my skin taut and sensitive. I could barely lift up my arms for much longer so I let them drop to my sides and then decided to sit in the streets as well. I had not eaten in weeks. I had been given food, but since I knew that I could not die from hunger I often gave away what I had to my citizens, preferably the children.

The things I had been seeing were horrific. Mothers were killing off their newborn children, their husbands forcing the family into cannibal acts. I had seen some people that would fight for the right to consume the dead rather than bury their corpses. The uppermost classes could still afford enough food to live comfortably, and I was one that was constantly being given. I was not mad at those that could afford food for not sharing with those less fortunate, for often they could only afford enough to sustain themselves healthily. I ran a hand through my hair and groaned.

I laughed to myself for a moment. A memory flashed of the food Alfred had given me centuries ago. I sighed and looked at my lap. It really had been that long already... I wish I could show Alfred how much I had grown. I was nearing five feet in height. I watched a rat run across the street, coming a little too closely to me. I really was in pain though; Almost all the muscles I had gained by going through a pubescent phase were now being eaten away by my own body. I could not even cry from the pain, since suitable water was also something scarce.

I really wished that I had someone there to care for me. And by me, I did not mean myself as an entity, I meant my nation. I needed my people to improve so that I could improve. I needed to stop feeling so sorry for myself sometimes; It was my people that felt the brunt of all the events that had occurred for the past five centuries. I leant against a brick wall behind me and inhaled. Living to see another day was something always there to remind me that I was not a human. I did not envy them, for I am sure a human would willingly trade to be someone like me in a heartbeat, but to be honest, the simplistic nature they had was something I longed for. They did not base love off of pacts and obligations. They did not have to worry about the conditions of uncontrollable things to affect their health. They were not -could not- be spiteful for things that happened decades ago.

I was just being bitter now. I stopped my thinking when a rat, much larger than the last I had seen, walked up to me. It was the darkest black I had ever seen on a creature, with demonic red eyes. It stared at me, rather, it _glared _at me.

I blinked, and the next moment, it was gone.

* * *

><p>August of 1350<p>

My entire body hurt. I walked carefully through the woods, careful of my steps even though I knew I was alone. My hands were shaking at my sides, and it was becoming increasingly difficult to walk. I made a quick sprint to cover the remaining ground and made it to what I was looking for. Before me was an old, twisted tree, its trunk incredibly thick. I laughed weakly and teetered to the aging plant. I layed a single hand on it and smiled.

"Still alive? That's more than I can say for the rest of Europe..." I sighed and slouched against the tree. Although I had grown considerably in the past three and a half centuries, I felt miniscule compared to what this tree had become. "They are calling it the Black Death..." I mumbled against the bark of the tree, my breath ragged and painful. With comforting silence, I just sat there and breathed. It was oddly calming and reassuring, to sit there and just have a few moments of peace. On my way, I had to pass through villages and towns filled with crying and moaning. Although the disease could not infect me, my body still ached as my population dwindled considerably. I felt lightheaded and often found it difficult to move about. My eyes hurt and I felt some moisture fall from them. I was not ashamed that I was crying slightly. It seemed like one disaster led to another, and I had practically forgotten what it felt like to be healthy. My chest shuddered as I finally just gave into whatever pathetic sorrow had been slowly overtaking me. Although Alfred's face was something I could not remember in my mind, I still remembered the hope that he held in his eyes, and the determination in his voice. I sniffled before turning around and laying on the ground. I closed my eyes and groaned quietly. What would Alfred do... Sighing, I turned to make myself comfortable on the foliage and prayed that sleep overtake me. My fingers tingled from a wet sensation. I opened one eye carefully and saw what was playing with my hand.

"Little talking flour ball," I whispered happily, prodding it. It squeaked and then rolled up to my face. "How are you faring?" It licked my nose, grinning.

"I have been patient!" it squealed, causing me to grin.

"Indeed you have been... I am sorry. I still do not know how to find the land you are from..." Its eyes upturned in worry and dissapointment. "But Alfred said I would find him again... and if you two are both from that land, then surely you will return." Its face remained anxious.

"You am sick," it said, more silently than last.

"Yes... I am, but I feel much happier having you here with me. Have you been waiting here for the past century?"

"I have waited a long, long time." I hummed and began stroking the creature as I glanced over my shoulder. The tree house was gone, no remains of whatsoever save for the actual tree it had been standing on was now a rotten stump.

"Thank you for staying here..." It smiled and started rubbing its fuzzy, feline-like lips on the corner of mouth. Laughing slightly, I wrapped my arm around it and squeezed. "I can't remember... Did you and Alfred have the same coloured eyes?"

"I dun know," it squeaked into my cheek. "I can' remember America or Alfred." I hummed dissapointedly and continued to rub its soft head. "But that's fine... England is lonely and needs a friend." My breath hitched and I looked at the eccentric creature. It stopped rubbing against my face and made eye-contact with me. "Your eyes are bleeding water." It reached forward and licked one of the half-dried tears off my cheek. "Do you have any other friends?" I choked for a moment, my chest hurting. Knowing the creature, its mind would flitter off to some other topic if I simply not touched on this one. I smiled nervously at it for a moment. It blinked. "Do you?" Cursing inwardly, I held onto the creature tighter.

"Well, I suppose. I am allies with several of the kingdoms on the mainland, we work together to better ourselves and whatnot."

"Then why aren't you with them? You seemed like you needed someone to make you feel better a few minutes ago." I sighed and pressed my nose into the soft body.

"We only associate with one another when we desire something and require their assistance... Then they decide whether or not they help based on what payment we promise them or what advantage they see. It is not friendship at all..." I was somewhat saddened by this admission, but it was something all nations were subject to. No two kingdoms were joined simply because the rulers liked one another, the people were all connected through families, or for the sake of the actualy personifications. It was all out of greed. I gently kissed the creature. "Thank you for being kind to me." It made a high pitched laughing sound as I began stroking its sides, and I smiled in response. Small, minute things sure make the broken person happy. And for a moment that is what I was as I held this oddity whilst resting under the monstrous tree. During that same second, I felt hope that things would finally become happier, for surely I was at my lowest depths of sorrow.

* * *

><p>June of 1357, Southeastern Kent<p>

I was horribly confused. I was standing in the center of the campground, my king before me shouting angrily at several other men. There were guards everywhere, and although there was an infuriated argument taking place, the entire area was rather morbid. An occasional cough would sound, but no matter who it sounded from, my attention would be directed to something that worried and sickened me. Scotland and France were sitting about thirty feet across from me, on the other side of the argument, whispering to one another and smiling. I scowled. Not only was it disgusting for them to be so obviously affectionate in the open, but it was rude to my king to be discussing on their own whilst he was speaking. Looping around the entire camps -so as not to disturb the circle in the center-, I walked up to the two and tapped Scotland on the shoulder. I was not as afraid of him suddenly punching me like he would have done decades ago. I was finally a fit age physically, my body regaining wonderful strength once the plague passed over. France frowned at me and Scotland spat at my feet.

"Have you no respect for the royalty for others?" I whispered angrily. Scotland snickered as France just rolled his eyes.

"A bleeding bunch of twits your royalty is," Scotland spat, laying an elbow on France's shoulder. After hearing a particularly loud shout, all three of us glanced over and saw King David pressing his temples as King Edward screamed. King Philip was sitting several feet off, a company of guards surrounding him. France's kings were either entirely brash, or altogether too smug. When I glanced back at the two nations, Scotland was speaking something into France's ear, twisting a strand of the other's hair. It was sickening.

"I think he is jealous," I caught France whispering back. I widened my eyes and scowled.

"Jealous about what?" I asked irritatedly. France glanced at me and then back at Scotland.

"Jealous because the rotten little cynic you are obviously does not like seeing that I actually enjoy the company of my allies." I scowled. "You know I still have Spain on my side? And who do you have? That little brat that claims he is the Roman Empire remade?"

"Shut up, Scotland!" I shouted, still not loud enough to draw attention to us. Momentarily I looked to the side and saw King David smugly smiling, King Edward's face red in infuriation. When I looked back, Scotland was grinning the same exact way. "I can make a powerful ally if I so desire! One that will easly take you and the disgusting bastard from the mainland down from your self-erected throne!" Scotland folded his arm and walked up to me.

"Is that so... little brother?" He seethed out the last two words through tightly clenched teeth, frightening me for a moment. He looked annoyed, and not just mildly irritated. Bothered to the point where he appeared that he would land a blow on me any moment. His face lightened, and he smiled. "Well we are in the midst of a war. What better time to prove yourself than now?" I frowned when Scotland turned back around to France and the two began conversing privately again. I would find the strongest ally out there. Even if it took me decades.

* * *

><p>February of 1387, Oporto, Portugal<p>

I was sitting stiffly in the Catholic church, the lights shining through the stained glass and the bishop's garbs sending quick shimmers onto the walls. I was uncomfortable as I watched King John take Phillippa's hands. They were standing by the alter as the bishop continued his service.

For the most part I was rather happy that Portugal had so gladly accepted my offer for allying ourselves, but I felt weird as Portugal pressed his shoulders against mine in the church pew. He had tried holding my hand several times, but I pulled away discreetly. My chest ached as I sat here, thinking that this is not the best I could have done in regards to allies. The fact he was considerably older than me, also made me uncomfortable. Scotland and France were relatively close in age, but Portugal was a Latin. He was one of the oldest existing souls of a population alive, next to his brothers. I glanced nervously at him and saw him staring softly at the front of the church, his lips curved in a slight smile and his black hair shining nicely. I reached up and began twisting one of my frayed, sandy locks out of self-conciousness. I sometimes honestly felt inferior to the rest of Europe in regards to beauty. I had no doubt my land was wonderful, but I myself was something of a class below the rest in regards to appearances. That is what Scotland and France constantly told me, mocking my hair and face, teasing me for the fact I was just barely done with my pubescent years, saying I was stupid and innadequate.

My thoughts were broken when I felt a tap on my shoulder and saw Portugal pointing at the alter. The two were just finishing their vows, and I expected that we would jsut sit and watch. Instead, Portugal grabbed my wrist and pulled me out of the sanctuary before ducking behind one of the maroon curtains that coated the walls of the building. I stared at him with curiosity, wondering what he was planning. I found my answer as the sound of the newly wedded couple leaving the sanctuary punctured my ears. As the excitement of a new bond was being made, Portugal silently kissed me behind the curtain before pulling me into a tight embrace.

I was supposed to be happy. I had a new powerful ally, but instead, I felt a deep longing for someone that was not the man that had taken me behind the curtain.

* * *

><p>May of 1431, Rouen, Normandy<p>

I felt pride, accomplishment, success. Something I wished my twisted disposition would disregard for the sake of preserving my own sanity. I should not have felt the tiny twinges of happiness and perverse sense of victory I did. But those feelings were there and present. I had felt those feelings at an even more powerful strength a nearly a year ago when France shouted for his precious little warrior as she was taken away. The sorrow and worry his eyes displayed had been enough to make myself happy for days. I hated the fact I was taking pleasure from such things, but it was only natural during war for the competitive demeanors inside all of us to take over and provide us sick pleasure when we won. So here I was, standing in the courts of Rouen, a church about two-hundred yards behind me, staring into the flames.

I wonder if France would cry if he could see this. He probably would; He had claimed being in love with the woman multiple times. Stupid France for finding love in a human. Humans died so easily, their lives but fragile little existances that progressed all too quickly. The flames began travelling up her skirt, ravenously eating at whatever they could clamp their stinging teeth on. And then I smiled. Stupid, stupid France. Laughing once to myself, I walked closer to the display and absorbed the light with my eyes.

He was so stupid, falling for someone that he knew he would only have for a short time. Then he would be without that person for the rest of his filthy days. I snickered and watched as the girl's feet were being consumed. Why would you ever fall for something if you knew you would never truly have that person? France and his overly active sense of infatuation had landed him in trouble before, but I knew that this would tear away at him.

"It must be terrible knowing you do not have the one you love," I muttered to myself. For several more moments I watched until an overwhelming sense of guilt took over my body.

What I was doing to France was what I felt when I had learned that Alfred had his heart to another. And yet I had let those damned feeling take over! I scowled and quickly darted out of the area, the sound of burning and an occasional scream following me.

I did not even remember what Alfred looked like. Just that he was smiling and wonderful and kind. I frowned in self-disgust and looked at the paved grounds. He would never take the pleasure in something like this. I stared at the stones, the shame and guilt tearing away at my mind.

"How do I know if I am ever to even see you again?" I hissed silently. I stood there, my focus on other things whilst screaming blared behind me.

* * *

><p>October of 1453, Bordeaux, Aquitaine<p>

I watched as France stood there, his eyes squinted in mocking. Most of my soldiers were already on the ships, ready to leave this land. I felt ashamed, yet it was not the burning sensation one feels when defeated. I was mostly dissapointed and still refused to see this as a victory. But here I was, my men and I being driven out of the territory we had so valiantly defended with nothing more than lack of food to show our presence. I was leaning over the railing of the ship as France smirked. I could tell that the idiot was happy, but I was surprisingly complacent with it.

I suppose the desire to return to my home and rest was something that tugged at me greatly, convincing me that this was perhaps for the better. The thing that infuriated me the most was knowing that all this time had been wasted. I strained my eyes to look more closely at France. Although he was grinning, his eyes were upturned in worry. So he was still saddened... I sighed and turned around so that I could find my cabin.

So what if France claimed the victor, it made no difference to me. The war really was tiresome to my mind, the sense of always needing to win and the quick anger and irritability that war brought about to nations. The cockiness and self indulgence when we were in cities, and even I at the physical age of seventeen was susceptible to this as well. The desire to act like you were the most powerful person often brought about trouble amongst the camps during the nights we were not fighting. I was relieved to be out of that.

Once I reached my cabin, I quickly fell onto my hay mattress, breathing in the smell of the dried grass. Hopefully much better things were coming my way in the near future.

* * *

><p>AN: I think I should mention, that as weird as it is having the mochi there, it did in fact follow him back in time in the doujin. So... He's stayin' there for now C:<p> 


	3. Chapter 3

1460, Buckland Abbey

I was sitting in the courtyard of the abbey, the gentle breeze blowing through my hair. They said I was tearing all of Europe apart. That two of my houses were tearing it apart. I laughed to myself and flung my head backwards, watching as the world turned upside down. They had brought me here, saying I was behaving like a man whose mind was plagued by insanity. I snickered and released the bench, falling onto the tile. And I was not insane, I seemed happier above all else. When I was being escorted to the abbey, some of the towns had even made processional fires for me. Laughing through my nose, I twisted onto my stomach and quickly darted into the abbey, running through the stone corridors. I had no idea what was so funny, but I could not stop laughing. It was not until I bumped into the abbot that I stopped.

"Slow down there! Why are you running around like that?"

"The more I run the happier I am. Still don't understand why the hell I was sent here. There's a war going on and I am being locked up. Bleeding lot of wise men you are," I mumbled, trying to run past the man. He caught me by my shoulders.

"Do you remember what this war is about at all?" he asked softly.

"Of course I do! The two houses competing for the throne and whatnot."

"Good, now can you tell me why you are here?"

"Because everyone says I am going insane! You yourself told me that I was acting entirely inappropriately-"

"You are confused. Two parts of you are conflicting and-"

"I do not need you to tell me what is wrong with my mind. I am at the least twelve times as old as you and you think that just because I appear the age of sixteen that you-" I pointed at him, "-know better than I."

"Calm down, the war is making you bitter and-"

"Bitter? I have never been happier!" I pushed past him and began singing and skipping down the hallway. "A pocket full of flow'rs, a town filled with fire. Down down down they go, into the black mire." I turned a corner and looked out every window I passed, my leaps progressively taking me farther. "And when they turn to ashes, when they turn to dirt, The Lord and Lucifer may greet them, taking away their hurt." I laughed once loudly and pushed through a door, soaking in the sun I had just been in a few minutes ago. "But if you met the Dark Lord, pray you still did well. Because we all know that there will be no love in the realm of Hell..."

My breath trailed off as I stopped in the garden and stared at two bushes. They were withering, their flowers falling apart with the petals becoming a single mixed pile. I looked up from the petals and back at the bushes. They were intertwining and strangling one another, their thorns stabbing the others' branches. "How rude," I muttered. "Obviously they should stop this nonsense... They share the same garden after all..." I darted up to them and began tearing their branches from one another, but every time I did, the limb would break off into my hand. I panicked.

"Now stop that, you two know better than to just give into my hand because you are tired of fighting." I grinned nervously and continued to untangle the mess, the branches still cracking and breaking. When one of the thorns pricked my finger, I retreated my hand and slowly brought it in front of my face. I watched as the blood travelled down in a steady streak, tiny bits of its flow becoming trapped in the small wrinkles of my hand. I laughed once, and then extended my unharmed hand at the bush. I firmly grasped one of the greener limbs and cringed as multiple thorns punctured my skin. It was a sharp sensation which pierced my mind in a way my senses had failed me lately. My mind had not been this clear in weeks, although the fact that it was pain bringing it about only made me want to squeeze on tighter. I smiled through the pain however and watched as the red dripped off the branch, down my wrist, and then onto the pile of petals. The faint red and the browning whites were both equally stained by my maroon blood. I turned around at the sound of the abbot running up to me. Several other of the men ran up, grabbing at my arms and pulling me away.

I flailed slightly, the faces of the men becoming dark and ominous. I was brought up to the bedchambers and led to mine. The walls were smaller than usual and the faces of the monks were teasing and cruel. My breathing picked up and sweat appeared on my forehead. One of the stronger men pushed me against my bed as I attempted to run off.

"Relax, we are not going to hurt you," one of them said as he grabbed my hands. He applied something to them that made the wounds sting.

"Stop it!" I shouted, trying to tear away from them. They simply began tying things around my hands. I dared not look, for already I was pressing my jaws together in anxiety, the walls mocking me with their closeness.

"We are simply binding your wounds, sire," another said. He was the one that had his arms wrapped around my waist and forcing me to sit on the bed. I breathed in sharply, the air sifting through my clenched teeth as my head shook.

"No you are not!" I grunted, or rather, shrieked. They began reassuring me that they were, the ties on my hands becoming tighter and tighter. I began grinding my teeth and groaning slightly. "All you humans ever want is your damned power," I screeched. "You are trying to control me aren't you? That's what they are all doing!" I hissed out a disturbing noise and began rocking slightly, the walls now touching me in their constricting power. I felt the men let go of my hands and heard them leave, whispering to one another strange things.

I waited to make sure they were fully gone.

The moment after the remaining voices died off, I turned in my bed and stared at the stone wall. It was no longer trying to attack me, providing me with a moment of comfort. I laughed hollowly, and brought my hands in front of my face.

"You damned idiots, trying to always control me... Well I have won this battle..." I grabbed at the ends of the white cloth on one hand and pulled, releasing myself in one swift moment. I snickered and did the same to the other. "Not even the walls can hold me now!" I muttered mischeviously, looking at my exposed hands. The wounds were small, but that could soon be fixed. "Must rid my body of all the poisoned blood," I whispered, sing-song. With a grin that could not be considered sane, I pressed my palms firmly against the stone and dragged down. I made sure the points with wounds found the exposed ruts and the tiny mountains on each brick, tearing open the small holes. Eventually my hands started bleeding, leaving a trail on the wall. I muttered the final verse to the song I had been singing earlier, "And may your blood be virtuous, may your blood expend, because all shall be swimming in it, when this time has come to end..."

* * *

><p>April, 1493<p>

I walked through the forests, every turn and area unfamiliar to me. I had walked through this area dozens of times, but I supposed a century of change would make the forest different all together. I became panicked after a little while and picked up my pace, searching desperately for anything familiar. I worried that my memories had been poisoned from the War of the Roses, but I still felt some sense of familiarity. The need to see how the tree was doing had grown especially powerful in the past couple of weeks, and just now I was responding to it.

I stared at trees, some massive, others yearlings, trying to find what I was searching for. It was all alien.

With a sigh, I sat down in the foliage and examined the area. After soaking in the colours and contemplating the idea of counting the leaves, I looked down upon myself. Growth was the first thing that came to my mind. I lay my legs flat against the ground, measuring them with my mind. I pressed my hands against my knees and saw just how much larger they were now.

"Time, time, running by... swift, striking like a knife..." I brought my hands up my legs and over my chest, noting how I finally appeared as a young man, subtle abdominals hiding underneath my red tunic. "For where is it going... There is never any knowing... Perhaps running to a better life..." I trailed off, embarrassed I had recited poetry whilst touching myself.

I wonder if he would be proud of me. I paused for a moment, searching my mind for his name. I almost cried when I could not remember, but the quick flashing thought of how he shared names with King Alfred reminded me. Grinning, I breathed heavily in happiness that all my memories had not been lost. I pressed my hand onto my forehead and rubbed for a few moments. It was calming here, just so alien. My black hose looked like a shadow on the ground and the red doublet simply blended in with the tree behind me. The line was pouring in from the west, causing streams of gold to land on the moisture catching foliage. A squeaking noise broke my moment of peaceful.

Startled, I shifted slightly as I was sitting and then noticed the tree I was leaning against had a rotted section, able to conceal a creature if need be. I turned around and bent over, looking into the decaying mess. "Huh... I could have sworn I heard-"

The next moment, my face was propelled completely backward, a soft, but strong orb harshly making contact with my face. I fell backwards into the foliage, my head making disgusting contact with the wet leaves.

"I have been very patient!" I heard, rubbing my forehead. I sat up and groaned. "The Alfred tree is died, and I have been very very good. I found for food, and survived, and behaved well and never harmed anythin'. Have you found America yet?"

I smiled slightly and picked the thing up in my arms.

"I have not, but I believe a man by the name of Christopher Columbus has."

* * *

><p>August, 1503, Edinburgh<p>

I tried desperately to contain my scowl as I watched Margaret take James' hands. Why anyone thought this was a good idea was beyond me, but I could tell Scotland was just as angry. All this morning he had complained that this was unacceptable, that his own king would not even reside in his land. I agreed with him though, I needed not another reason for Scotland and I to act as if we cared for one another. King Henry would still despise Scotland's king, and King James would most likely do the same.

The room was so tense, as if the marriage would actually make the conditions between us incredibly different. I snorted in irritation and moved to a corner in the church, watching as the procession advanced. I was not paying attention, however. I should be on ships, joining Spain and Portugal as they explored the new world. I smiled in amusement. The New World, what an extraordinary title. I lowered my head slightly.

Even if I came across Alfred, I doubted I could recognise him. All I knew was that he and the creature shared blue eyes. Through the corner of my eye, I could see someone carefully shuffling up beside me. I tried to pretend I was too absorbed in the wedding to even take notice of whom it was, but when I felt a hand on my shoulder I turned my head. The flashes of scarlet hair gave away whom it was before I had even finished turning to face the person. Scotland was looking at me, even though his face was still turned towards the altar. Mildly worried, I pulled away slightly, but he simply stepped with me. I flashed a glare at him and then returned my gaze to the procession, even if I was not fully paying attention.

The Scandinavian nations had even become a part of this exploration as well. And then there was France. The idiot was bragging about the different crops he and Spain had shared with one another, smoking strange plants and returning with vast amounts of riches. I wanted desperately to join in with all of them, and find my way about. I prayed to the Lord that I would find Alfred before anyone else did. Scotland tightened his hand on my shoulder, causing me to flinch in irritation that I was not allowed a few moments of peace to simply think. It was then that the procession received its final moments, the archbishops finalising the moments that those two would have without being bounded to one another. I still cringed in preparation of the strange feeling a nation received when they were bonded specially to someone through political and diplomatic ties.

When the vows were finished, I tensed the muscles in my stomach, the feeling of nausea brushing over me like a gust of wind. Scotland felt it as well, his hold weakening for a moment. I watched as the people who had attended left slowly, me too afraid to flinch as Scotland stood so close. I waited a few moments, the sound of the cheering outside becoming louder, presumably from the attendants and participants of the wedding leaving the church. When the sound became muffled, I attempted to turn slightly and free myself from Scotland's hold. This was not allowed however as he twisted me so that I faced him and then embraced me with entirely too much force.

"S-Scotland, what the hell has gotten into you?" I asked nervously as he tightened his grip. He laughed softly several times as I just stood there, limp in his grip. I was frightened as to why he was doing this. His laughter only grew, from soft giggles, into more obvious snickers. Then it was gentle chuckles, before full blown laughs. They were not sardonic or malicious but they troubled me nonetheless. They were more facetious than anything else. "Scotland?" He clapped my back several times and then broke the embrace, grinning.

"Oh now you've done it, little brother. There will be a Scottish king on the English throne soon enough, you be sure of that!" he said smugly. My eyebrows furrowed and my lips turned downwards.

"Some of my diplomats already knew that, why are you reinstating this?" Scotland stared at me for a moment, me noting how he needed to rid of the prickly hairs that protruded from his chin and cheeks. One half of his mouth curled into a smile, and he laughed a single time.

"Irony sure is a funny looking thing, is she not? Dear Lord on High, I will enjoy every damn moment when that comes to pass," he said, patting my shoulders. I glared at him, thinking of what I could reply and not make a fool of myself with.

"Does it really bring that much pleasure to know that you will finally, and for once rule a nation that is younger than you? One that has been a thorn in your side for so long? Your... 'little brother'?" It was my turn to laugh once. "Well so be it, Scotland..." I walked towards the exit of the sanctuary. "So be it... I am glad that you finally get your chance to have any semblance of power of me. Mark my words though when I say that one day you will be completely under me. And not just through unified monarchies." I looked over my shoulder and saw him staring confusedly at me. "You will be a part of a great nation that I will forme. And believe me when I say that it will be the best that has ever existed."

* * *

><p>1519, London<p>

I sat in the church, looking at the small leather-bound book in my lap. Europe was in turmoil, people that shared the same god were disputing. I supposed that most had a right in some regard. The corruption of Catholicism had finally come to millions of people's attention. I looked around at the statues of the saints with a heavy heart. I then stared at the stained glass portrait of Mary with her Child, my mouth opened as I tried to intake the musty air. My chest hurt and my mind felt bleary. I was ashamed. Then again most of Europe was. The Latin nations still retained their beliefs in the Catholic church, but some in the Holy Roman Empire were becoming curious, wondering what lay in the newly formed protesting churches. Already people from both sides were being killed.

I looked at the handwritten Bible, the delicate pages with the beautiful writing lying within. There was no need for such beauty to be preserved anymore; machines had taken the strenuous work away. King Henry was unsure as to what plan he was supposed to go about, but was edging on creating a church of his own. One under my name. I scowled at the thought of how such a selfishly created forme of worship could be fabricated.

My shoulders were heavy, my mind was muddled, my lungs ache, and my limbs were weak. I sat there and began to pray.

I prayed for guidance. I prayed that I would not fall to such ridiculous brawls that the rest of Europe seemed constantly subject to. I prayed for a light heart and a clear mind. I had many other things that I could have prayed for, but my mind trailed off and I closed the prayer. Sighing, I stood up, my legs feeling stronger than they had a moment ago.

I laughed amusedly through my nose and then stared at the book in my hand. I smiled and walked out of the empty sanctuary, my mind already thinking of new plans and wandering into the realm of my poetic fantasies.

* * *

><p>September 1578, The Pacific Ocean<p>

It was completely amazing. It was also somewhat cold and very breezy, but the feeling I achieved when Captain Francis Drake brought us into this ocean was unlike anything I had felt in years. I had heard Portugal talk about it often, boasting about how Magellan pointed out all the small islands and the few continents we would pass. He told me of the Orient, that eventually we would pass by it if we went far enough, and how the expedition was exciting like nothing else. I laughed in excitement and turned around quickly to look at Captain Drake. He was grinning to himself proudly, and he had a right to.

I have to admit that I felt somewhat odd donned in the long red coat and the strangely feathered hat, but at the same time it was comfortable. The life of a privateer was not half bad, however when I had worn the same clothes in front of Spain several months ago, he had frowned sourly. I snickered at the thought and began walking along the side of the 'Pelican', admiring the ocean. Surely a simple body of water should not be this exciting, but it was. Grinning, I continued along the deck and then up the forecastle whilst I still watched the gentle waves. I chuckled and continued to look in the blue.

"Blue above me... blue below me..." I muttered, enjoying the simple little concept. The sun was warm, but not harsh. I laughed loudly into the open for no reason other than I was happy. The New World would surely be something I was prepared for after this.

* * *

><p>AN: I apologize for my fail songwriting... I wanted him to sing something about the Black Plague, but 'Ring Around the Rosies' hadn't been made until the 1790's. I didn't want to search for 600 year old songs either so I kinda just wrote my own. Ugh, same with the time poem... Someone shoot me for making such abominations... During the War of the Roses bit, I wanted to give England psychosis, although there was really no way I could come up with to fully show that since it is written from his POV. I considered him to be mentally ill during this period simply because during the war, two separate nations were not formed like in the American Civil War, but I figured that England would have mental problems since two parts of him were conflicting.<p> 


	4. Chapter 4

July 22, 1587, The New World

I watched as the citizens filed out of the small boats, John White at the lead as the first steps onto the land filled my chest with pride. Even though I was not the first here, the simple fact that I finally arrived brought happiness to me. We were on a small island, the mainland visible in the distance. I laughed once in excitement before leaping out of the boat and running into the trees in the distance. On July the fourth of eighty-four, some expeditionaries had scouted this land and even returned with native peoples. When brought before me they had claimed that a child of my kind was seen roaming the forests of the mainland. They had told us the child was there for years, which gave me hope that I would find the entity of a population. As orders were being shouted, I walked through the forests taking in some of the details of the alien landscape. Surely they resembled what I had grown up with, but at the same time the trees were different. There were not any of the purple beeches, the oak trees were much taller and less dense, and I stumbled against several trees that had large waxy leaves and enormous white flowers. Then there were trees with no leaves whatsoever, but rather sharp needles and flowers made of wood. There were trees resembling this in Europe, but none with needles this intimidating.

I made sure not to wander too far so as to be unable to hear everyone else, but I could not help but wish that we had landed on the mainland instead. I was assured I would have plenty of time for that, but for now we were simply camping on the island, preparing ourselves for the excitement that tomorrow would hold.

Later that afternoon, once everything was done being set up, I sat outside of my tent and looked at the stars above. They seemed the same for the most part, which dissapointed me slightly. I hummed and distanced myself from the fire slightly. It was much more warm here than it had been in Plymouth when we departed, but we were much farther south. Not to mention, the months had progressed to midsummer.

The sound of boots on the sandy dirt brought my attention to see John Smith.

"Are you excited to see the mainland, sire?" he asked, grinning slightly. I nodded and flushed mildly, embarassed that it seemed that obvious.

"I cannot wait to claim land for myself here. It is a very beautiful place..." I glanced around and then set my gaze on the ship sitting on the water in the distance. When I reestablished eye contact with White, I gave him a soft smile. "Have you yet to name this colony?" He laughed through his nose and sat down, crossing his legs as he blocked the blinding light of the flames from me.

"The natives here often use the shells of the ocean creatures for currency... I was considering using one of the people's words for money. Of course, Sir Raleigh makes the decision, but I was considering Roanoke." I nodded as I pulled my legs to my chest. "What do you think of the name?"

"It's fitting and creative. I feared that 'New Plymouth' would have become of this colony otherwise." He snickered and fidgeted slightly, making me guilty that I was awake even though he was the one that volunteered to keep watch.

"So tell me, do you creatures not require sleep or...?" I laughed several times and leant against the barrel behind me.

"No, we need to rest as much as the humans, but the excitement we find in colonising is incredible... Although it may just be me. Portugal never told me of this feeling, so do not think it qualifies for all of us."

"So you are friends with the entities of other lands as well?" he asked earnestly. I noticed his arquebus was glinting in the fire's light, distracting me for a moment. I laughed hollowly several times before exhaling loudly. I was not sure how to answer that question accurately without disturbing the poor man slightly. I could tell him that most of Europe hated me, and the ones that did not were eccentric. I could tell him that I lost my purity in some small house near the ports of Lisbon, but then he would question to which woman. There was the option of simply saying that Portugal did in fact qualify as my friend, but that would not be truth either. A human's friends did not have intercourse with one another and invite their allies to join in with them. The kings and dukes did not sleep with one another every time a treaty was finalised or an agreement was made.

"I suppose so... We are complicated beings, but then again, as are humans..." His mouth twitched upwards at the corners as he pat my shoulders.

"So you witnessed the signing of the Magna Carta, the invasion of the Picts, the battles with the Normans-"

"Would you believe me if I told you I have met King Alfred?" I asked, glancing with a small smile to entertain the large grin that grew on him.

"That is incredible! So you are more than seven centuries old? You look no older than a man of sixteen years of age..." he said whilst squinting to examine my face.

"I believe I am seven-hundred and nine. Although that may be innacurate..." He boomed laughter for a moment, me just sitting somewhat uncomfortably. The warm air made sitting next to the fire and an explorer somewhat uncomfortable, but I sat there, feigning laughter alongside the man. It was not until we heard the rustling of the foliage nearby that White grabbed his weapon and stood up quickly. I stood as well, reaching for a nearby knife, and walked towards the trees. He prepared his loud weapon as I trodded carefully to the nearest shrub, the knife extended in front of me.

There was a final loud rustle followed by a noise I least expected to hear. It was the sound of a child's laughter. No longer worried, I darted to the bush and quickly pushed the branches upward.

Instead of finding a child, there was a single ear of maize, sitting there, with small nuts beside it. I picked up the food items and showed them to White. Lowering his weapon, he raised an eyebrow in confusion.

"Those were just laying in the bush?" I nodded and poured them into his hand.

"I have a feeling that we were being followed by one that is neither a native nor a human..."

* * *

><p>The next day, I woke before the rest of the colonists and ventured into the forests of the island, determined to discover what or whom it was that left the food from yesterday. Birdcalls that were alien and exciting kept me wide awake as I searched for the subtle little signs that only humans could leave. The air was warm and moist, fog hanging low and making the morning both eery and wonderfully exotic. I shivered when a bird sounded and stopped walking. I just breathed, enjoying a moment to simply look around and take in the simple fact that I was in the New World.<p>

When I finally stopped staring into the misty trees, I stepped forward only to break a stick under my feet. A powerful gust of wind blew from behind me, as if breaking the twig was a signal for it to come. The trees around me stirred, the sound of the leaves rustling becoming rather loud. And then, through the wind and the leaves, I heard a sweet, somewhat familiar sound. A child's laughing sounded from my right, but as the wind spun in that one little area, it travelled. I quickly turned my head in multple directions, trying to locate the child making the laughter. I could not see very far however, the fog blanketing the distant forest.

"Hello there?" I said, loud enough to breach the cacophony. I received a single giggle. I stared into one area of the mist where the laughing was coming from. Straining my eyes, I saw a silhouette, grey and hard to make out, in the clouds. The leaves crunched as the child neared and a small foot made it close enough to me to be seen. I waited for the being to take one more step forward and make itself visible.

"Sire, are you fine?" I shouted a little, startled by the adress, and whipped my head backwards. One of the settlers was standing on one end of the clearing, an arquebus gleaming on his shoulder. The wind had stopped the moment he had called out for me.

"I- di- The child. D-did you see the child?" I asked, gesturing in the direction the silhouette had come from. The man shook his head, staring at me with mild worry.

"Was it a native?"

"Possibly... Although the single foot I saw was much too pale to be an Indian..." His face showed panic.

"I will return to the camp and make sure all the children are accounted for," he said, running off back towards the camp. I stood there, not worried for the same reason he was. That was definitely a nation that I had just encountered, one with the freedom of the wind. I snickered to myself at the ridiculous thought. Nations could not control their own weather, it was just another thing we were subject to. Just a coincidence, mayhaps. Or maybe even the child knew what was going to happen and took advantage of it. I think it was teasing me. It was making its existence known, but not revealing itself. It wanted me to chase it.

I was tempted to scoff and blow off the idea of pursuing some child starved for attention, but I did not for one simple fact. I was already doing that. By coming to the New World and searching for territories to claim as my own, I was chasing the child. That child was the entity of this colony, one that had only been formed a day ago.

"Well then... child of the wind... I will enjoy finding you and teaching you," I muttered amusedly.

As I walked back to the camp, I questioned what was causing me to be so poetic, but pushed the thought out of my mind. Perhaps I was nearing an age of increased culture, something easily brought about colonisation. I chuckled several times in excitement. There was much to be gained in these misty forests.

* * *

><p>December 15, 1587<p>

I walked through the forest of the islands, determined to find the child. I had searched every day since that one encounter, finding no evidence save for an occasional ear of maize magically appearing on the outskirts of camp. The settlers were growing hungry, their wooden homes only able to shelter and not feed the many hungry mouths. Since my populace was doing fine back in England, I did not suffer that much, and would often give huge portions of my food to the children of Roanoke.

I was frustrated though. Already White was speaking of a return voyage to get supplies and we had only been here for a few months. I was also annoyed that I could not find that child. I shivered once in the cold and pressed on.

I found a clearing, different from the one I had found the child in months ago, but still it loomed over me, commanding me to stay. So I did. I sat in the center of the clearing and inhaled the sweet, stinging air in through my nose. I began to think.

I felt sorry for a moment that I had not brought the flour ball with me here, but I knew that this in itself was a risky experiment, and would hate it if something happened to the creature. So I left it in my home in London, allowing it to roam with free will. I momentarily wished that someone was here to see me in my mild success and congratulate me. Portugal came to mind, but his face was pushed out by something else. A deep booming laugh took over my thoughts for a moment, at first making me question where I had heard these and then why was I thinking of them now.

The laughs became progressively more childlike, the pitches becoming more and more youth-filled. It was not until the sound of shuffling nearby broke my attention did I turn my ahead. And there I saw the child.

He was smiling, with golden hair on his head, his eyes too far for me to determine colour. I stood up and took a careful step towards him. I extended a hand.

"D-did you come to see me?" I asked warily. I did not want to scare him away. He brought his small fists up to his mouth, slightly flustered. As I neared him, he lowered his hands and clutched at his stomach, the noise of his innards alerting me to something rather scary. "You're hungry, are you not...?" I asked him. He was about to shake his head in denial, but ended up nodding. He stepped back from me, making me feel somewhat bad for the small boy. If he really was the entity of Roanoke, then he was most definitely starving. He must have been excruciatingly cold as well, seeing as he was naked, with cuts running up his arms and legs.

I reached into the satchel laying over my shoulder and carefully pulled out one of the maize shalks and held it out to the boy. He refused blatantly, his head shaking and his eyes in something akin to horror.

"You want your people to eat this, don't you..." I said, the realisation hitting me. I could not believe that he was acting the same way I had when my people were starving. He stepped back again, nodding. "Where do you find these?" There was no reply. I decided for a different approach. "Are you able to understand me?" The child grinned and laughed once as his head bobbed up and down.

"So tell me, do you just want me to call you Roanoke?" He shook his head.

"Then what?" No response. "Do you fear me?" I asked, the question somewhat painful to ask. The child's eyes upturned in worry and he fervently shook his head.

"Then why do you not near me or respond to my questions?" The child looked at me with wide eyes. I was still unable to determine their colour, I just knew that they were not brown.

He took a step backwards, into the forest. "W-wait!" He looked at me with wide eyes, somewhat scared. "I am returning to my homeland in a few days and I just want to know if I shall come across you again when I return to Roanoke." His face read only of uncertainty, and he made no indication for an answer that went either way. The child looked at the ground, unsure of what to do, so he looked up at me and just smiled. Before giving an answer, he darted back into the forest, his laughter bouncing through the trees as he disappeared into the foliage.

"Please appear again..." I muttered before making my way back to the camp.

* * *

><p>August 18, 1590<p>

White and I stepped across the shores of the island, worried for how late we were. Spain and his annoying armada had kept anyone from safely voyaging back to Roanoke, and thusly caused us to be two years late. I was scared that we were entirely too late to save the starving colony and the little boy that ran naked in the forests.

"Sire, the fort that was assembled is in shambles," one of the men shouted. White peered up from the driftwood on the beach at the man, anxiety plaguing his expression.

"What do you mean? Are they not managing it?" White asked, already darting across the beach. I followed after them. The other man looked over his shoulder and shook his head.

"You may wish to see for yourself, sire." All of the men began running down the shore, frightened looks on our faces. I was probably in fear the most.

The sight of the fort came into view, the posts that were freshly cut when we left were now worn by the salty air.

"Hello!" White shouted. There was no response save for a bird on one of the posts flying off. He swore under his breath and ran to where one of the posts was fallen. He scrambled over it and quickly into the walls of the fort. Everyone else followed after him, weapons drawn in case the colony had been occupied or was a place of ambush.

When I walked up to the tall posts, I looked around worridly. Surely they could not have simply disappeared. I decided to walk in and ask White of his opinion on the whole matter. The moment I made it in, I looked around in all directions and saw the homes empty, not a single sign of anything inhabiting the area. I peeked into a house and saw that it was empty, scaring me. The other houses were completely torn apart, however.

"W-what happened to them?" I whispered rhetorically, staring at the empty room within the home. When I turned around, I saw all the other men staring at one of the posts of the fort, near where we had entered. I trotted up to them curiously, my brows upturned in confusion. White glanced over to me as I walked up.

"Sire, do you have any idea what this means?" he asked, gesturing towards what everyone was staring at.

Carved into the post was a strange word, one which I questioned if there was any real meaning: Croatoan.

"Is that not one of the neighbouring tribes of natives?" I inquired, more than concerned now. White glanced at me, his eyes flashing hope for a moment.

"It is indeed. Maybe our fellow Englishmen evacuated to the island that they inhabit?" White grinned for a split second before running back to the boats. "Quickly, let us find out!" he shouted. Several of the men, myself included, followed after him. I was praying that my first colony was not gone yet.

* * *

><p>I was sitting on a stump on the outskirts of the neighbouring island's forests, White somewhere within the trees. We had searched the island for nearly seven hours and found absolutely no sign of the colonists. White was determined that we had missed an area, and that he would eventually find his family. I sighed and began rubbing my temples.<p>

My first colony was gone. My first attempt at making myself known in the new world had died off. As much as White and the other men were hurting for their missing families, I did not much care. My thoughts were more on the child and how he knew had trusted me with keeping him alive. I was praying that he was still in existence, that one colonist had survived, thus keeping him alive as well. I felt terrible.

The child was free and happy. Albeit, slightly distrusting, but unlike me, it was happy in its early stages of existance. I groaned quietly in guilt. My first experience in the New World had not been promising in the least.


	5. Chapter 5

June, 1608, The New World

It was strange how time would bring about an oscillation of positive and negative events. Roanoke had been something of a haunting failure to me, the thought of the little boy running untended. I would remind myself that it was possible he was still alive, the colonists that were missing might have escaped to the mainland and managed to keep the essence of the boy burning. After Roanoke, I often would drown myself in watching Shakespeare's works. The representation of morbid emotions amongst those plays provided a rather hollow self assurance, and the happier scenes bringing about mild relief. I was blessed in a sense to be capable of exposing myself constantly to the works, but I often worried they were an ever present obsession. Whatever the case, the troubling events of 1605 were no surprise after a time of peace and relief.

Something terrible always seemed to come up whenever I was somewhat complacent or happy.

The Gunpowder Plot brought about mortification in a way I had not been aware I was able to express. A priest had told me that it had been a trigger to a series of anxieties I had been accumulating, none of which permitted me to sleep quite a few nights. Feelings of burden, the idea that I was unsuccessful, my own people revolting constantly, were all thoughts that plagued at my mind.

One of the most troubling bouts of emotion was brought about by the rather obvious observation that I was fairly alone. When I felt small and troubled, the only things I desired was the sensation of someone caring enough to go out of their way and make me feel better. At the realisation that no one was present to do such a thing, I would often be thrown back into the anxiety fit.

But I found a rather stable relief.

It was colonisation.

I feared the result of my last attempt would just appear again, but the process of sailing, discovering, and settling all managed to effectively occupy my thoughts.

And my thoughts would have been free from all negative emotions had it not been for one annoying little detail.

A frog had followed me on this voyage.

I was knee-deep in a nearby tributary, my trousers rolled up to my thighs with my cloak occasionally dipping into the water when I leant over to catch a fish. The setting would have been lovely and relaxing, except France was about two yards off, mimicking me. After setting up James Fort, French fur traders stumbled across the settlement, and to my most fortunate and pleasant surprise, my centuries old... 'friend' was with them.

France was whispering something as he attempted to catch fish, most likely trying to seduce the little bastards knowing him. I scowled when I stuck my hand in at a silvery gleam. France should not be here with me. I was here in my own colony and he was not supposed to be. But he was here, amongst several others I wished would leave. Sweden and Finland were about two days' distance to the north, and although they did not anger me as much, they were still in the way of land I desired to claim.

France shouted in victory, pulling a large gleaming fish out of the water and exclaiming something in that damned language of his. I was about to send him a comment about slimy creatures being attracted to one another, when something interrupted.

"Hallo there!" someone shouted in a heavily accented voice not too far off, startling both France and me. France dropped his fish in the process, making me snicker. We glanced over to the side and saw a party of about five men, one of which France and I immediately recognised.

"Is that you, Finland?" I shouted. France laughed before wading out of the water and running up to the flustered man. Finland laughed uncomfortably as France did that disgusting greeting of his, me just clambering out of the water.

"Hello, England." He nodded at me. "France," he said nervously. "I am assuming that there is a settlement nearby from where my men could stay for the night?" he asked politely. I nodded and pointed to the southwest.

"Follow the river and you will find a fort of mine. I warn you that we are dangerously short on rations so I would prefer if your men ate their own food..." I muttered, slightly embarrassed at how difficult it was for me to retain a single colony sufficiently. Finland grinned and turned to the men, spitting out words in his language before turning to face me. It was then I am sure both France and I noticed that he cuts and bruises on his face.

"Thank you, England... Would you care for me to explain why I am here?"

"Would it also explain those wounds on your face?" I asked, France humming in agreement. Finland laughed through his nose before walking over and sitting near the bank of the brook. France shrugged and followed, so we both sat beside him.

"Well you see, the whole situation is just stupid if you ask me," he said, laughing at the end. His eyes were red and he looked on the verge of tears. "As I am sure you both know, Sweden and I are about two... three days to the north. Well the other day, the Netherlands comes out of no where and starts taunting Sweden and I. Eventually it turned into a rather petty brawl, forcing both of us out of the area."

"Was the area that... desirable?" France asked, placing a hand on the smaller man's shoulder.

"I am not sure... There were some nice lakes and much timber there, and wonderful water system that leads to the enormous lakes in the west, but that really was not why I liked the area so much. Sweden saw it for its trading potential, but I found something much more intriguing there."

"Pray tell," I said, the story actually fascinating me slightly. Finland grinned before wincing, most likely from the pain his face brought about.

"We found this child, just roaming the forests and fields. It was the strangest thing ever, but there he was!" I sat up and stared intently at him.

"D-did the child laugh a lot and have dark blonde hair?"

"Hmmm, possibly, I only saw him for a few moments before he ran off. Sweden searched for him several times, but unfortunately never found him. We are leaving in several days and I was just doing a final search for the child."

"He might be one of ours little brother," France mused. My eyed widened, but I did not know why. I felt like I should remember something regarding a brother.

"If that is the case, then should we not try to find him?" Finland asked. I stood up and began walking away from the brook. "England?"

"Come, we will prepare to search the area, I know of a wildflower field not too far off. I have a feeling that that would be a good place to search."

* * *

><p>When the three of us walked into the field, we immediately spread out and began searching in the shrubbery and tall grasses. Finland brought with him some bread and fruit, his ever present maternal moods getting the better of him. It was not until I saw the top of a golden head did I grin. I knew for sure the child would be near to one of us. And since most of my kind, when we were yet to be discovered and raised, were often found in remote, but beautiful, areas, I just knew he would be here. I admit, the half an hour of us searching in the heat was less than pleasant, but it was well worth it.<p>

"I think I found him, you two!" I shouted, keeping my eyes glued on the child. He was not going to allude me now. Finland and France ran up to my sides and looked down.

"My little brother..." we all sighed in unison before sharing awkward smiles.

"What are you talking about, England. It is obvious he has the brow of a Frenchman!"

"I beg your pardon! What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means you have ugly eyebrows obviously," France replied, smirking. I scowled and watched Finland walk over to the now flustered child.

"Look at what you made him do, France," I grumbled as Finland was handing the food to the boy. He had small rabbit by his side that sniffed the pieces of cabbage he was holding.

"I made him do that? Mon Dieu, you look like you want to eat the poor child, that is why he is scared," France hissed.

"He probably was expecting you to sound like a woman, but grew afraid when he heard your disgusting French_man _voice." The child observed us silently, Finland rubbing his head and coaxing something in gentle words.

"At least my voice sounds like a man's!"

"There's still a matter of physicality, Frog. I maintain any masculinity to the best of my abilities-"

"-which is not much-" he interrupted.

"-whilst you waste time purposely making yourself look feminine."

"You two?" Finland asked. I ignored him though, bracing myself for France's all too expected return quip.

"A real man does not fear a few things of beauty making him look not masculine."

"Umm..." Finland tried again.

"Too bad everything you touch automatically becomes hideous."

"England and France!" Finland said loudly. He did not shout, that was not like him, he just said things more clearly. I hummed and glanced at him.

"Which traits of mine do you think we share?" Finland asked, pointing at himself and then the boy. His head twitched slightly in a small nod, the small child's doing the same. I panicked internally; I did not want Finland to think that this boy was his brother when it was so obvious he would become mine. France must have thought the same, for he just smiled the same nervous, sarcastic grin I had.

"Oh, what are traits in a true family," France stuttered, placing a hand on my shoulder. I wrapped one around his as well.

"Surely it is just a matter of location and who is colonising, right?" I added on. Finland tilted his eyebrows in confusion.

"Ahhh..."

Whilst the four of us stood there, silently trading short, awkward bouts of laughter as the child ate, France and I squeezed each others' shoulders, intentionally trying to hurt the other. Finland would glance at the boy and wipe his face, smiling the damned motherly smile of his.

And God knew the three of us were all planning on ways of winning the sweet blue-eyed boy over.

* * *

><p>October, 1609<p>

I felt somewhat sick to my stomach, but not completely in a negative way. I was excited for one, but I was also nostalgic and scared. I was briskly walking through the field, a rather excited grin on my face. A child back at the fort had told me that I looked like I was planning on consuming her, which worried me, but I suppose that if this expression showed my mood, so be it.

"Where are you..." I said sing-song, scanning the bushes. I desperately had to speak to the child. "I am rather busy, and I need to leave soon, so I would like to see you," I said, knowing that he must have been in earshot.

"I am so happy you came to see me!" I heard a very young voice say behind me. I turned around and saw the boy, his rabbit firmly held in his arms. My eyes widened in shock.

"You are not... running away from me? And you are actually talking, too."

"No, I won't run away. I have been figuring out quite a lot about myself lately." I was not quite sure what the child meant by that, but I nodded along anyway.

"I see... Well I am glad I got to see you before I left." Now that I was up close to the boy, I could clearly see his facial features. His round cheeks pushed up into a grin with gleaming blue eyes. He seemed happy, even though I was the person talking to him. Well that was a pleasant change.

A wave of nostalgia hit me, the feeling of having those thoughts before causing me to catch my breath. Someone else had been happy just talking to me once before... Whom it the person was was a fleeting thought in my mind, frustrating me so. I shook my head and smiled, now more naturally.

"Well then, I will tell you what I came here to tell you," I said quickly, remembering that I was in fact supposed to depart soon. "You are now my little brother, understand?" He grinned and walked up to me slightly.

"So will I call you 'brother'?" he said in the most innocent and sweet voices I had heard in a long time.

I froze.

Now why did I say I wanted to be his brother. My brothers only brought about pain, and if I was making him my brother... Oh God, I did not need him digging pits and setting things on fire like the rest of them. I cringed, my face tightening up so much to the point where it was painful. The last thing this young entity needed to do was rank among the many others that constantly made sure they were a thorn in my side. A few of the more painful memories actually evoked a few tears, but I laughed at myself by that point.

I glanced down to the expectant, shining eyes.

"Oh please do not... I would prefer just 'England'. That's fine enough for me..."

"A-ah, I see..."

For several moments we just smiled softly at one another, although the child seemed somewhat nervous.

"Is something troubling you?" I asked, kneeling in the tall grass.

"So... does that mean you are not my brother?" he asked, his eyes becoming puffy.

Ah damn it, he was about to cry.

"A-ah, I suppose if you like to think as such, you may. It does not really matter either way." His mouth opened into a small 'o', his eyes gleaming with understanding. He stepped towards me again. "However, I really must be leaving now... You may stay at Jamestowne if you wish to, but-" I stopped when the sudden collision of the boy against my shin brought a splitting pain. "Dear Lord, how strong are you?" I muttered in pain.

"You're leaving right after we became brothers?" he asked, his words muffled into my boot. My chest hurt slightly.

"I-I have to... Captain John Smith is returning, and the colonists need food and supplies. Do not fret, I am sure we will see each other again soo-" I held back a grunt at the feeling of his arms constricting my calf. It felt like two stones were crushing my leg rather than a small boy embracing it.

He looked up at me, his eyes engraving themselves into my memory. They were uncannily luring, almost as if I was supposed to find them.

"B-but you must stay safe whilst I am away, understand? Don't near France or any other nations... Stay close to the settlement-"

"You will return right?" he nearly sobbed.

"Oh dear Lord," I muttered, rolling my eyes. Only a few minutes with the lad and I was already hurting over his sad voice. This was going to difficult for both of us. I leant down and rubbed his hair, coaxing his grip from my throbbing leg.

"Yes, yes, I shall return, no need to fret," I grunted as all my strength was being exerted on the task of removing him. I was not entirely insensitive though, for when he finally let go of my leg, I quickly picked him up and looked him in the eye.

"You know that many wars will be fought over you, right?" I said softly. The child grew panicked.

"What did I do to start them?" he asked worriedly. I felt my cheeks warm at how endearing he was. I was searching for a vague enough response that was honest, but not brutal.

"Well you see, you did something that all nations do."

He tipped his head to the side and upturned his eyebrows.

"And what would that be?"

"You appeared."

* * *

><p>AN: Gettin' back in the swing of writing for this. School's been a real pain, and my anxiety is not getting better, but I promised myself I would finish this! Hope that explains why my updates are slower. Sorry for the short update, but I figured some little America England interaction was good enough. I kind of like writing these shorter chapters, but at the same time I fear that they may be... incomplete? Feel free to voice your opinions.

Also, I know this is almost exactly like episode 39. I like to stick to canon, mmkay? If some people don't like that, don't worry, I am gonna do just one more scene (from episode 40) and then the Colonial times will be all my own.

You guys excited for America? I know I am.


	6. Chapter 6

AN: Listening to the instrumental Pocahontas soundtrack helps a lot in this chapter, trust me.

* * *

><p>June 12, 1628, Salem, Massachusets<p>

It was no wonder that out of the many times I was denied an opportunity to travel back to the New World (some colonies had been founded without me, Plymouth for example) that when I finally ventured with Winthrop, I immediately went down the coasts in search of some hint of the child. I finally thought of a name for the boy too. Lately, cartographers had been all referring to the New World, as the 'Americas'. I thought the name was actually quite lovely; the Latin base something that would fit nicely. I was hoping he was near, that strange ability for our kind to know where they are supposed to be and when. Surely, he knew he was supposed to be with me.

At some point, I had taken off my shoes and stockings, the coarse sand and many twigs in the sand shifting rather comfortably underneath me. I was not running, but I do not think I was walking either.

One thing that always astounded me when I came to America, was just how vast it was. Even some of Spain's explorers had not been able to find the western coast, but still had ventured for weeks inland. However, the things I experienced first hand, such as the plants and animal calls were all eerie and foreign, for just going two days northward could bring you to a completely different environment. Jamestowne had not been near as chilling as it was here, the trees more of the needle-kind in Massachusets. The air seemed different too, but at that point I just brushed the thoughts off as ridiculous and continued my search.

If America had known to make he himself visible and known to Finland and Sweden, and thusly come across me, then I had no doubts that fate would somehow lead him to know that I was here. I had no idea why I was searching the shorelines, but yet it seemed like the most logical place to start. I grunted once when a piece of driftwood actually did scuff up my foot, but it did not deter me, my pace only quickening the slightest bit.

"God damn it all, you'll be the end of me, child..." I muttered, a smile beaming through the exasperation. Immediately after I said that, I tripped on a stone but managed to catch myself midair. I started chuckling to myself and quickly rubbed my forehead, continuing on. "Most definitely will be the end of me."

I glanced at the forest a few moments later, the same looming authority I had known for centuries now seeming slightly more intimidating. Simple things always seemed to have that affect when in the New World. I snorted to myself, the thought I was letting a few trees get to me being only slightly amusing. I turned around and saw the ships in the distance, however, I could not see where the settlers had been. I supposed the coast really did curve in these areas. I shook my head and resumed my path.

I was not honestly expecting to find America instantly, but at some point I really did become tired of all the walking. The sand was now an annoyance more than a comfort, and I had been on the brunt end of more angry pieces of driftwood than I could count. But a simple, little, yet entirely captivating sight caught my breath. I did find America, but it was what he was doing that captured me the most.

He was sitting on a log, his legs pulled up to his chest with the always-pristine baptismal robe entrapping the seaside air within it. A soft, muttered melody was coming out of his mouth as he stared at the sand in front of him. He shivered once, the words to the song dimming and the rabbit that I had not seen earlier puffing up. The entire scene made my throat clench slightly, as I just wanted to run to the boy and ask him what song he was muttering. I decided to continue observing, however. Once the wind blew over, he reached down and picked up a pebble on the ground and raised his arm over his shoulder. I guessed he was going to throw it into the ocean, but I did not find out, for the moment he winced in concentration, his gaze flickered sideways and the stone fell out of his hand. He stared at me for a grand total of about two seconds before flipping the log over in his haste and scrambling across the sand on his long legs. It was a strange observation, that I knew his legs were long for looking like a child of that age, but I supposed I would learn many more interesting and odd things in my care for the boy.

I grinned softly, his face nothing more than a beam of happiness as he giggled and then leapt. My heart stopped, not from the adoration I wanted to give to America, but more or less for a sudden bout of fear I experienced as I watched him glide through the air and barrel straight into my chest.

With a grunt that could only be drowned out by his laughter, I fell backwards into the sand and hit my head on a branch in the process. America attempted to wrap his arms around my chest, but gave up after a few attempts and settled on kissing my forehead instead.

"You're back, you're back, you're back!" I snorted and ran a hand through his hair.

"Of course I am... I did tell you I would return, did I not?"

"You did! But I was so very impatient waiting for you! You weren't there to teach me how to cook, so I had one of the women in Jamestowne do it. And I thought 'I wonder if my big brother would have taught me all these amazing things' but then I told myself, of course you would! Because you are my big brother, and you would teach me anything right?" As he broke into another giggling fit, he buried his face into my neck.

"Yes I would... I would teach you everything I know, and I will. But I warn you, I know quite a lot of amazing things, so it may take many years. I just may have to stay here for quite some time to even teach you a fraction of my knowledge." He gasped and sat up on my chest, his eyes gleaming in excitement.

"You must teach me! I want to be just like you, brother!"

I smiled bitterly in reply; I did not want him to be just like me. Bitter and having wisdom due to events that made me cringe as they resurfaced in my memory. America was being created as an escape from what I had to encounter in Europe. There was no way I was letting him become just like me. I pat his head and hummed.

"England?" I raised an eyebrow and looked at him, his face now extremely close to mine. "I can see me in your eyes, you know?" I snickered, tightening an arm around his thin waist.

"Is that so? Are you glad about that?"

He laughed in a way that seemed like he had never experienced hardships, making me envious for a moment.

"Of course I am! Because in order for me to see myself in your eyes, you had to be here in the first place." He flushed and looked away with a soft smile. He poked his rabbit that was sniffing my shoulder and then looked back at me. "And I am glad that you are here."

I exhaled.

With a grin I wrapped my other arm around him and rolled on my side.

"I am glad you are here."

"In front of you?" he asked, his voice muffled.

"No."

"Then where?"

I sighed happily and pressed my nose into his hair.

"In my arms."

* * *

><p>"What is this, England? It doesn't look like the wooden houses I've seen," America asked as I held him. The poor boy, he had been so tired on the return trip to the camp, yet excited about my arrival, that he kept nodding into sleep only to jerk himself awake again. I turned around and backed into the flap of the tent as America pulled himself upward to look over my shoulder.<p>

"Well, we cannot exactly make a home in four hours, now can we?" America shook his head, still engulfed in looking around my tent. There was nothing special about it; just a cot for me with my trunks and cases right below it. It was a military tent however, so there was actually quite a lot of space. I walked to the cases and quickly took off my overcoat and collar, tossing them on top of the heavy cases. America was examining the tent's walls and seemed to catch interest in a small basket opposite me.

"What are these, brother?" he asked, prodding the rolled up paper inside them. I walked beside him and delicately pulled out one of the sheets.

"They're maps, pictures of land and oceans for us to use when we need to go somewhere," I explained as I unrolled the map. America gasped as islands and coastlines were revealed unto him.

"Where are we now?" he asked, looking all up and down the picture. It was a map of the eastern coast of America, going as far as south as the Spanish territories and as far north as Massachusets. I dragged my finger to the certain spot in the small colony and grinned.

"Right there, I believe."

"Wow... And where did I first meet you?"

"Hmmm..." I brought my finger down to Virginia. "There."

"Really?" he exclaimed, quickly bringing his face right up to the map. "Those are so far away!" he shouted as he looked at me with wide eyes. I snickered and began rolling the sheet back, hitting him lightly on the head with it in a playful gesture.

"Which makes me wonder how you managed to cross all this distance." America shrugged and walked over to my chests.

"I just ran..." he mumbled, climbing onto the cot.

"For how long?" I inquired as I walked over to the side of the makeshift bed.

"I don't know..." he muttered, his words groggy. I laughed softly through my nose and carefully took my boots off.

"Well I suppose you are tired..."

He hummed in agreement. I was about to tell him to stay awake until it was the appropriate time, but it was rather late. I supposed everyone would be resting soon anyway. I exhaled sharply and shook my head softly. I picked up the single blanket off the chests and adjusted myself quickly into the cot, trying not to disturb America. When I managed to get comfortable, America turned over and flickered his eyes open.

"England?"

"Yes?"

"What's my name?"

I quickly berated myself for having not told him earlier, and wrapped an arm around his tiny body.

"Are you fond of 'America'?"

His eyes fluttered several times; whether from fatigue or thought, I was not sure. He giggled several times before burying his face into my chest.

"I like it!" he said, his words adorably muffled.

"Now, remember. Once someone has received a name, they must keep it forever." He brought his face out slightly and glanced up at me.

"Really?"

"Yes, it is a very special thing."

"Well that's fine! If you like America, then so do I!" I grinned and rubbed his hair once.

"Excellent, America," I said, trying it out. He dug his head harder into my chest, most likely from embarrassment, and giggled a few times. "But rest now. Because tonight we gave you a name, and tomorrow we shall give you a towne."

* * *

><p>June, 15<p>

"Oi, sire, w'o's that li'tle squat o'er there, carryin' and heavin'?" one of the workmen shouted as he was holding a log with me. I glanced over my shoulder and began laughing.

America was several feet behind me, holding one of the smaller logs entirely by himself. He was talking with a group of women however. Most likely telling them whom he was. He was ecstatic this morning, whenever someone asked whom he was, he proudly shouted his name. I sighed and continued walking with the other man.

"Someone that is to be treated kindly in his stay here," I replied after the women started laughing at the fact that America kept almost hitting people with his log. America probably did not even realise that what he was doing was amusing or adorable, which only strengthened the fact that it was.

"Is 'e a faerie?" my partner asked. "Sure acts like one, what with that strength and the intelligence for being such a young thing." I wanted to tell the man that America was probably older than him, but I let it pass.

Since Salem had already been in existence for several years, there was already a small towne there when I arrived. I came with a man by the name John Endecott with the Massachusets Bay Colony. In fact, he had named the settlement something completely different, some word of the Native's, but I was a little more content with the name Salem.

"No... He's just a really special child."

"England!" I looked over my shoulder again and saw America running up to me, his flailing in the air as he continued his clumsy run. "England, where does this log go?" he shouted before making it by my side and looking up at me with excited eyes. My partner snickered and shifted the log on his shoulder. I used my free hand to point off to where a group of people were.

"See those carpenters, America?" He hummed and stared all too seriously at them. "Well, they need the wood to make the homes with, so that is where we are taking it."

"I see! England?"

"Yes, America?" I asked, now slightly exasperated.

"What if I just did this?"

"Did wha- No, no, no, don't do that, America!" America had the log positioned over right shoulder and was squinting in concentration. My protests were in vain, for the next moment the log was gliding through the air like a javelin. Some of the carpenters shouted and ran, but one, that was taking measurements, was oblivious to the oncoming length. With an odd thudding noise, the trunk planted itself into the ground at an angle, several inches from the man's feet. He glanced at it slowly, a mortified expression on his face. When I turned to America, my face in disbelief, he was grinning innocently.

"I'll go fetch another!" he shouted before darting off.

* * *

><p>April 14, 1629<p>

"And what do the Natives call that one, America?"

"Hmmm... Aroughcun! I think I heard some of the hunters say it as 'raccoon' though..." I stared at the creature curiously as it furrowed through the leaves. I glanced down at America, who was picking up leaves and examining them before tossing them over his shoulders. I had no idea where exactly we were going, but I trusted that America knew his own land well enough to guide me safely.

The raccoon made a chittering noise and darted off, saddening me slightly that I could no longer look at it. When the creature ran out of view, I glanced back at America.

"Hurry up, England! We're going to miss it if you continue being so slow!" America shouted from five yards away from me. I rolled my eyes and trudged through the moist leaves somewhat reluctantly. The months I had been in Salem had taught me that America would often hide from me what he knew I would not like. I had a sneaking suspicion that he was beating around the bush of something.

"What are we going to miss?" I asked when I caught up to him.

"Something amazing," he muttered happily, laughing that unique sound of his.

So we continued on for several more minutes, an occasional animal call making me shiver. I still was unused to the nature of this land at times, just the looming greatness of it mostly. America was humming his song along the way, only adding to the feeling of inadequacy that was always hovering over me. When the smell of smoke and the low sound of a drum alerted me, the feeling became less of one of awe for my surroundings, and more of something akin to fear.

"A-America, pray tell where are you leading me?"

He giggled and grabbed one of my fingers with his tiny hand.

As we continued on, the sight of wigwams and fires made my heartbeat hasten.

"America, I don't think this is a very good idea," I hissed at him. A couple of days ago, America and I traveled with several others south from Salem to Plymouth since I was curious as to how the settlement was going there. This morning America suggested we just walk through the forests, and seeing no harm in that, I followed him. He really was far more clever than I gave him credit for if he was being so sneaky as to trick me into going with him to an Indian camp. I would not have been so scared if it was not for the fact I was unarmed; after all, I was the great kingdom of England, but my pride came from my men and technology. And America being the stronger among us was not reassuring either.

"Sure it is! They cannot hurt us, brother."

"No they cannot _kill _us, but they can still hurt us, America. Please, let us return to Plymouth-" A shrill synthetic animal call interrupted me, America only giggling and imitating it.

"Quiet yourself! We do not want them to... hear..." Several painted faces quickly appeared in front of us. America childishly laughed and waved at the fully armed men. "Ah damn it, you'll be the end of me, you know that?" I muttered.

* * *

><p>I was sitting uncomfortably in the largest of the homes, swallowing harshly as I shared eye contact with one of the smoking men. He was giving me a rather stern glare; then again they tended to always look like that, at least when I saw them.<p>

America, who was sitting on his knees, elbowed my side. I looked at him for an explanation and noticed that at apparently one of the natives had put a feather in his hair. When we had entered the camp, it seemed like all the women and children could not stop flocking over him, leaving me in the company of the much more intimidating hunters. We were quickly led to the central home however, out of the attention of everyone there.

"Be polite to Massasoit, brother. He is their... king?" he whispered. I nodded and looked back at the stern Native. He puffed out a ring of smoke.

"Ah... Hello there, sire," I said quickly, lowering my head to be polite. He nodded at me and then looked at America, as if I had been painful to gaze at. America smiled sweetly at him.

"So you brought your older brother," he said in a low voice.

"Yes, I did. He has been around for hundreds of years and knows a lot more things than even you!" The native hummed and relayed the message in his language for the several other equally intimidating men in the area. They muttered amongst themselves for a few moments.

"The English are an interesting people, and this boy-" he gestured to America, "-says that you are the living soul of the English." I loosened up slightly.

"I would not say the living soul of my kind... but rather... a living forme of all that has occurred within the history and lifespan of an actual nation. If I was the living soul of my people... I would at times despise myself, wanting nothing more than myself to be destroyed, for at times people hate their own nation. Mine included..."

"Do you weary of all you have experienced?"

"When I am surrounded with negativity and strife... I am. But... unlike humans, when I enter a battle, I fear not dying. Having dozens of arrows in your chest may cause you to fear living more than anything else..."

"Then why do you go out to experience things that may bring about these troubling experiences?" I looked up at the man, his black eyes glazed over from whatever herb he was smoking, but clarity shining through by the eager expression on his face. It was nothing more than a complacent look of apathy, but I still read it as a sign to continue.

"Well... because no one experiences horrible events all the time. Everyone, including my kind, finds happiness eventually. And often, the sorrow just makes it just that much more rewarding..." I looked down at America. His hands were pressed in his lap and he was staring at me with eyes that were glowing in the fire. I reached down and pushed some of his hair off his forehead. My mouth flickered into a smile for a moment before regaining some of the anxiety that seemed to be ever present. "And those little things of happiness are worth going out into the wilderness and becoming harmed for." I flashed a smile at America and then returned my gaze to Massasoit.

"Yes, but we humans cannot endure as long. What if we never greet these thing of happiness we are bound for." My chest clenched at the obvious response that immediately jumped to my mind.

"Well then if you at least tried for this happiness and had expectations for its appearance, you would have died light-hearted and with hope."

The gruff man hummed and inhaled a long drag of his drug. I sat uncomfortably for a few moments as he just smoked.

"I am... glad the child brought you today."

"I am glad he brought me as well."

"You are very wise and your kind are very interesting." He stood up and walked over to flat basket on the other side of the room. He bent down and pulled out a small item from it before returning to his seat. "I am proud to share this land with you and your kind." America fidgeted before leaping up and running over to Massasoit.

"A-ah, sit down, you know that that is impolite, America!"

Massasoit grinned and pat America's head before grabbing his tiny hands with his large, dark ones. He put the item in America's hand gently.

"The boy came to us yesterday, and requested that we make something for his brother since he himself was too young to. Just by coming here he showed bravery, so I took his request." America laughed and quickly ran over to me.

"Lean down, England," he chirped.

"Hmmm? How come?"

"Please, just lean your head down," he said in excitement. I rolled my eyes and obliged. I felts his hands brush my ears and then something thin rest against the back of my neck. A group of beads appeared in my vision for a moment. "There..."

I lifted my head and glanced down to see a necklace with three small beads, the middle of which was a carved acorn.

"A-an... acorn..."

"Do you not like it?" Massasoit inquired.

"No, it's lovely. Thank you." America ran into me for an embrace, and as I returned the hold, a strange feeling overtook me. The feeling that I was holding someone other than my little brother.

* * *

><p>AN: So much fluff -cries- Oh well, I kinda like it. Big, big thank you to FiredemonAce13 on YouTube for spreading all the nice words about this fic! Reveal yourself so I may embrace you. And I am so happy at the amount of feedback this is getting! Thank you so much, guys!<p>

1.) Massachusets was spelled like that, and so was Jamestowne.


	7. Chapter 7

May 1756, Boston

I climbed down from the ship with the sound of dozens of other men both behind me and before.

Red was all I saw. Red crashed into more as the uniform that blood could not stain donned every able man in my visage. It empowered me.

But yet, the feeling of dread came about. The impending feeling that comes from knowing that soon I would battle and strife with people I hated and fight alongside people I hated as well for an unknown amount of time.

Although I had just arrived, Europe was already calling me back; obligations and loose ends lingering in my mind.

I pushed through the soldiers and past some colonists in hopes that America had received my letter. I had last left him in Annapolis, hoping the warmer weather of a Southern colony would help the lad through the winter.

My nose twitched and I shuddered mildly when one particular nagging thought resurfaced. Why did the colonies only have only one entity? All thirteen were so contrasting from one another that it simply made no sense why just America appeared. The thought that mayhaps it was a preemptive sign to something yet to come always aggressed my mind. Our existences confused even me at times.

Something was rubbing against my thigh, breaking me from my thought. I glanced down and saw movement in one of my jacket pockets. "Patience," I whispered whilst patting the excited burden.

About half an hour later, my Boston home loomed into view. The trees in the front yard were glowing in the evening light as their new blossoms clung warmly. A small smile broke out soon afterwards.

America was sitting in front of the door, his head resting against a bush in the nearby gardens. He was soundly asleep.

I walked up to him briskly but without sound and knelt.

"America," I whispered, grabbing his shoulder. He hummed, but remained unconscious for the most part. "Come on, good lad. I've come a long way to see you." His eyes opened partially and the following moment his arms were wrapped around my neck. With him laughing into my shoulder, I picked him up and spun twice only to tighten my embrace around him.

* * *

><p>I sat at the foot of America's bed, still in my red uniform, and watched an excited America playing with his new friend.<p>

"England, what is it?" he asked with giggles filling the gaps between his words. I laughed through my nose and crossed my arms.

"To be honest I have no idea," I said, grinning. America was holding the white creature that I had been caring for the past decades. It was jumping on his shoulders and saying high pitched noises. "It's definitely not an animal; perhaps something more magical."

"Like faeries and brownies?" America inquired as he dug the thing out of his shirt.

"Perhaps. Perhaps not. I came across this thing through very strange means."

America glanced up at me. "How did you find it?" he asked with widened eyes.

"Oh it's a terribly long and boring story and I am certain you will have no interest in it," I said quickly, trying to hold back a smirk. America's curiosity really was too adorable not to tangle with.

"Oh please tell me! You haven't told me a story in years!"

"All right, all right, I shall tell you. Almost seven centuries ago, my dragon and I were racing through the forests of England. Now I tell you, my brother, Scotland, was an annoying little twit and planted pit falls throughout where he knew I liked to roam. I was carefully making sure not to fall into these traps, but along my journey I chanced across a person. He wore bright red clothing with furs and had a laugh that even made bitter me want to smile. He had spotted me though, I do not remember how, but he did and began pursuing me. I ran as swiftly as my small body would allow until suddenly I fell into one of Scotland's traps!" America gasped and squeezed the creature tighter, causing it to squeak.

"Not to mention it began bloody raining too," I muttered. "So I sat in the pit, angry and sad and cold and hungry, hoping Scotland would come and fetch me, but to my surprise it was the man from earlier. He was so strong that he jumped right out of the pit, no problems."

"Wow, I hope I can be that strong one day," America said in awe. I did not even bother telling the boy that he probably already was.

"Well, soon afterwards, he fed me and treated some wounds I had, and I remember admiring him so much. He showed me kindness, knowing he would get nothing in return. In curiosity I followed him back to his home and stayed there. I do not really remember what happened there, but when it was time for me to return home, he promised me that I would see him some day."

America stared at me blankly.

"What is it?"

"You have been waiting seven hundred years?" I nodded. "What if you never see him?" My chest clenched.

"Well, he promised me I would see him again."

"Promised? Well, he better keep it. or else I will have to tell him that he was really rude to you and that nobody is rude to England!"

I snickered and wrapped my arms around his shoulders. "You know what, America?" A muffled 'what?' came from my chest. "I will perfectly fine if I don't see him again, cause I have somebody else that loves me and he is very kind and sweet." America pulled out of my hold.

"Well that's great, I don't like it when you're sad," he said with that innocent grin of his. I just ruffled my hand through his hair.

* * *

><p>March 1763, Virginia<p>

The small, anxious child by my legs tottered along uncomfortably as we walked down the warm, breezy streets of Williamsburg. He whimpered the slightest when a horse-drawn cart wheeled past him.

I tried sympathising with him, trying to remember hundreds of years ago when I was that small and frightened of the world. My still lingering anger was blocking my ability to concentrate though. I was furious on the inside, but contained the upsetting thoughts from affecting how I acted around my newest addition.

How dare France attack America while he knew I was gone. How dare he be nothing but the biggest disgrace in existence.

"We are almost there," I reassured the boy. He nodded with a nervous hum.

When I pushed open the door to Virginian home, America immediately ran up to me and into my leg. The other boy practically screamed as I fell backwards into the dirt path. America jumped on my chest, eliciting a grunt, and finally paid the other child mind.

"America, meet your new brother Canada," I said, gesturing to the more timid of the two. America leapt off my chest and scurried up to Canada.

"Nice, to m-meet you, I am Canada. I like trees a-and-"

"Woa! England, he looks just like me!" America shouted. I stood up and watched as he ran circles around the now entirely flustered Canada.

The next moment America was pulling at my breeches asking for food as Canada was still finishing his introduction.

* * *

><p>I pulled the sheets over America's chest and quickly kissed his forehead before standing up and moving to Canada's. He was still wide awake, looking around the room with overwhelmed eyes.<p>

"Tell me, are you afraid?" I asked quietly, sitting at his feet. I took note that he was partially taller than America. He started shaking his head, but then shifted to nodding. I sighed and pushed a one of his light brown curls out of his eyes. "I am guessing France has told you many scary things about me?" I could have sworn a smile flickered on the boy's face at that moment.

"He has, but that does not bother me. France said a lot of things I don't believe, like when he told me he was going to win this war." My eyes widened in startlement.

"You sure are a smart boy." Canada's cheeks became flushed.

"Thank you..."

"So why are you scared?"

"Being here. It's warm and busy and don't know if I shall ever be able to speak French again. And America. He looks so much like me, but he is happy and energetic. What if he finds me boring?"

I grinned and placed a hand on one of his small shoulders. "Don't worry about the French, be glad about that. And America could never find you boring. I worry he finds me boring for it has been centuries since I was that small. And even then I was never happy when I was both of yours sizes." I sighed and slouched over. "But America always finds ways to be happy, and having someone more his age would make him exceptionally so."

"Do you think so?"

"I promise you. You two will become an unstoppable force one day, I can tell. Maybe even I will have to ask for your help, and you two help me in a war." Canada stared up at me with happy grin. I smiled back before leaning over, kissing his forehead, blowing out the candle, and quickly leaving the room.

* * *

><p>March 1770, Boston<p>

America sat at the dining table, his cheek resting in one hand. It was well into the night, the soft moonlight coming in from the large windows pouring over the table and grasping his form.

I sighed as I leant against one of the jambs that led into the room. He exhaled loudly in response. His straight nose was wrinkled at the top from the frown he had been sporting all evening. I did not know what to do.

Tired, I turned around and began to walk out of the room.

"England..." he muttered, frustration and fatigue in his words. "Come here..." I lifted my brows in curiosity and carefully walked into the room as he stood. As I neared the seat he had just been sitting in, he walked to the opposite side of the table, immersing himself in the cast light.

"What troubles you, lad?" I asked after a minute of silence. It was an uncomfortable notion to call him a lad. After all, he was much larger and stronger than me.

He inhaled, me hearing for the first time just how shaken he was. "I want your men out of my cities." I laughed nervously.

"America, we have been over this before. There are here to protect your citizens-"

"And are your taxes to protect my citizens as well? Are you protecting them from the evils of paper and sugar?" I flinched at how his voice raised. He continued on, this time his voice faltering. "You once told me a story of a man, a man that saved you and asked for nothing in return. He was noble and kind and promised to see you again. You had such adoration in your voice when you spoke of him."

"America, he was not like us, he did not require repayments just to manage economic stability. He did not-"

"Repayments?" he uttered with a sardonically curious voice. "Repayments for what? Your troops did nothing for my people during the war. Nothing!" he hissed" They went up to Canada as my men defended for themselves in the West. And where were you? In Europe, entertaining your friends as you showed off your-"

"You spoilt brat," I interrupted. "You expected me to completely neglect my own nation, my own people, just to make sure you were comfortable?"

"I was only a child then!"

I frowned, but not out of anger. I was worried. It was not like him to be so infuriated. We stood in silence as he breathed heavily.

"When I was younger you used to tell me of how lonely you were before discovering me. And it made me realize something about you."

"And pray tell what is that?"

"You push everyone close to you away."

"That is not true."

"Yes it is! Why else would you be so selfish to those around you? I have read those damned history books you've given me, and your relations are all greedy. You treat your brothers as a means to gain power, you only are allies with Portugal to have someone to fall back on, and then me. You tax my people and use my resources."

I grimaced in disgust.

"I am done here. I shall not stand and be accused of being nothing but a luster of power by someone like you." I began walking out of the room, stealing a final glance at him before exiting the room. He was grinning.

"Someone like me..." he muttered with a chuckle.

I scowled as I continued walking to my room, disgust washing over my thoughts and emotions. He was just upset over the previous day's events. I should be the one upset. After all, his citizens had attacked my men first.

* * *

><p>June 17, 1775<p>

I stood on the top of Breed's hill, my right forearm bleeding and attempting to stain my already red uniform.

I could barely breath. I felt like I was going to vomit and that this could not be happening.

I was in disbelief.

The moans from some nearby wounded soldiers broke my trance for only a few moments only to completely hurl me back into it.

How could he have caused this much damage? He had been so small, he had asked me to hold him on stormy nights, but today I knew.

I knew that he really did want to leave.

With a sigh, I gently placed my left hand on the wound and applied pressure. I could not help but feel that each ounce of blood lost through my wound was a man that was lost today. And it was his fault. My teeth became gritted and my brows furrowed.

I was growing, expanding, finally reaching my hopes of becoming powerful and known. I was someone worth fearing. And yet he, stupid, brash, inexperienced America, was actually a force to be reckoned with.

I breathed in shakily, my jaws hurting from clenching so tightly. How dare he, after I raised him, protected him, taught him.

"How dare he," I uttered with trembling words.

He had shown his stupidity in its most blatant form. He would be punished for it as well.

I personally promised myself that I would be the one bringing about his downfall. I brought him up, I could easily tear him down.

And that is exactly what I planned on doing.

* * *

><p>AN: So only a few chapters left in this story... I love all the support it has gotten, like y'all have no idea. Sorry for not updating it in months, but I thought this is the least I could do during Christmas break. So as evidenced by the previous chapters, these skip around many decades, so yeah I wouldn't expect more than three more chapters. Probably only two. I don't even know. But it would be great to finish another multichapter. I was tempted to throw in the Independence Sky AU into this too since what the hell it's already based off of one doujin, but I didn't. You can pretend I did if you want though.<p>

Now, to put it into perspective of just how rapidly America grew canonly, he grew physically 10 years in about the time of 10 years, which is apparently incredible for nations when you think about how slowly France and England grew. I know America grew this quickly, because of the strip involving England introducing Canada to America for the first time, they still looked like 5-year-olds (1763) and then America was well into his teens by the Revolutionary war (1775)

Also, I have no clue where the first deployment of British troops landed during the French And Indian War so don't take that first section as historically accurate.

Hope y'all enjoyed o3o


	8. Chapter 8

August, 1877

Growing.

It was a simple concept that is deemed a fate to practically everything that has existed, and it seemed those that had the oddest ties to me were joining me in realising this fate. Russia, America, and I were strengthening. But as power ebbed in and out with the tide, others lost so that we could gain. The Dutch, Spain, China, and most recently, India, were all losing. It would be a lie to say that I could maintain my power forever, but some days it was that exact conceitful untruth that I told myself in bouts of pride.

It was a strange thought, but I almost held some bitter pride in knowing America was expanding as well. A comfort, really, since it showed that I had lost to someone much more powerful than anyone anticipated. At the same time, it helped me realise that power flowed almost in a linear fashion, seeping out and dispersing with other cultures. From Egypt to Babylonia, from Babylonia to Persia, from Persia to Greece, from Greece to Rome, and then finally; from Rome to me. All these nations either overlapped or used others as bridges, and sometimes gifted those meeker then them their power only to have it later snapped up by the rightful heirs. It was far from a perfect analogy, but it was the closest thing to a streamline explanation I could get into understanding one acknowledged concept of our existences.

Thinking that I was the product of garnered remnants of Rome's power did not assist in quelling my vanity, but it did do me in some well-deserved confidence. But I had claimed and fought for all I could in the Western world, so the lineage of Eastern power was bound to be my next objective. That which descended from the Mongols and the Mings had already given up to me so much, so it was on this day I finalised my transaction with India.

And so my queen was declared Empress of India, and the lineage of Eastern powers had graced me with more of its bounty. All the while the news of America's pressured internal conflicts became more and more well known. Perhaps America would not be my heir after all, and I was to be graced with the companionship of this power for centuries to come.

* * *

><p>December 1922<p>

The Boer resistance, a new monarch, the sinking of the finest vessel of our era, the end to the bloodiest war I had seen in centuries, and a poor attempt at maintaining peace; all interesting things to happen in the first quarter of this century. This century was going to be unlike any other.

The world was changing rapidly; France and I both agreed on that. But as the world honoured the tradition of letting December be a month of rest and celebrating I found solace in having none of the worries burden me for a few days. I felt like I did when I was much younger. When Roman roads were a priceless infrastructure and items made from steel were the pinnacle of scientific advancement. I breathed in the cold air and exhaled slowly, trying to cling onto it as long as possible.

There was an automobile in the far off distance, but I clouded it out with the sound of the leaves under my legs. The muscles in my shoulders twitched.

"The United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland..." I breathed, watching the words dance in the air and then disappear. I wondered what my younger self would think if I could tell him that things would not get any worse or any better. For every problem the world solved another would appear. It almost made all my centuries of observations and ideas seem bleak and without purpose.

"Oh stop that, old chap. You're making yourself sad." I swallowed and bit my lip. I was sad though. I was bitter and sad.

Eight centuries, two decades, and three years. I was waiting for someone. I could remember the date better than the actual man.

I was old and tired, my mind longing to be troubled with only the simplicities humans possessed. Like, what I was going to buy at the grocer or how to fix up the minute flaws around the house.

Instead I worried over how I was going to thank America, or how to prepare in case such a catastrophic war broke out again. The plague of fear struck from knowing my grip on power was being lost. I was spread thin.

I looked up, the sky almost a painful thing to look at. It was completely grey from the clouds and the falling snowflakes caused my eyes to flinch. This forest was comforting in its stasis.

"How much longer," I muttered, more of a statement than inquiry. The words were warm on my lips but they stung my lungs upon their exit. I sat in the embrace of the chill wind for what was probably half an hour.

"I have not felt this at peace in a long time," I breathed out as I let my head rest against a tree behind me. I chuckled softly and let my body slide into the damp leaves. This was nice. I felt small again.

My eyes closed and I imagined the sounds of me running through the forest with delicate feet, a quiver on my back and creature by my side. Hope and innocence and a lack of knowledge; when Europe was the only land I had to fear and the ocean was my best barrier.

"Fall asleep, old chap. You may not get the opportunity again for a long time."

And with sigh from my chest and grin on my face, I wrapped my coat around body and fell asleep.

* * *

><p>August 1940<p>

"No."

America gave me a soft grin and placed his chin on his thumbs.

"Sorry, England, but I really can't afford to do this. So my answer is no."

My lips tightened and I swallowed harshly. "If you agreed, any expenses on your behalf would be repaid in the forme of debt, and-"

"England. The answer is no. I can't do this; I literally can't. My government is opposed to it, as is half of my population. And I agree with them."

I scowled as my third attempt at visiting America to convince him to assist me in this war was thrown out the window. I slammed my fists against the table and stood up.

"You owe me so much for what I have done for you and how I have mercied your-!" I stopped myself, both of our eyes widened in shock. I sat down and placed my hands in my lap. "I'm sorry. That was out of place." America stared at me oddly.

"Are you okay, England?" he asked quietly. I sighed and placed one hand on my head.

"Do you think I would be coming to you for assistance if I was?" I replied, trying to make the sarcasm sound friendlier than it was. He smiled awkwardly and made an attempt to pat my back. He retreated when he was halfway across the desk.

"Heh, well if I had the men and the power, believe me, I would help for both yours and France's sake."

I snickered, causing him to raise his eyebrows.

"You don't get it... Even in your weakness and tribulations you're strong. Why else would we turn to you." I squeezed my forehead in embarrassment. I knew I was to flatter him and get on his good side, but telling the truth seemed a little too much for my pride. I stood up and pushed my chair carefully in.

"W-wait, England. You don't have to go. I can show you around and-"

I turned around with a soft smile. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"You actually want to do something with me; want me to stay." I exhaled and loosened up. "And it does mean a lot to me that you do honestly want to help. But we're all suffering. Even you."

"Things are changing, England," he said quietly, his lips pulled into a soft grin.

"Oh, don't I know it. One thing is for the better, I must admit."

"And what is that?"

"A century ago we wouldn't even be able to have a conversation like this."

"Well, it's nice, y'know. To be friends."

I smiled awkwardly. Friendship was such a meaningless concept at times for us. It only lasted as long as the alliance did and its limit was determined by how well you interacted throughout the centuries.

"You know that I forgive you, right?"

I glanced up and saw America giving me the kindest smile I had seen in the longest time. I tried to fight back a frown at the gesture. I did not need forgiveness. I needed help. But for vain, brash America this was actually one of the kindest gestures he could give me.

"Well thank you..." He nodded and pat my shoulder. "America, if that is all there is to say on the matter, I think I shall arrange a return trip as soon as possible."

"Right. Best of luck to you and France."

I fought back a frown. "Yes of course. Farewell."

And I walked out of the room, his hand trailing down my arm.

* * *

><p>January 1950, Brentford<p>

I looked into the fire while running my fingers through the head of hair in my lap. It was eight at night, the sound of gentle rain creating a calm surrounding.

"In a few months it will have already been five years," America muttered. There was a box of photographs on the floor and he was flipping through them. The oldest ones dated the late 19th century.

"Five years is nothing," I said, not really realising I had said it aloud.

"I suppose. Although it seems the war never even really ended. If it isn't one problem it's the next."

"You involve yourself too much, love."

America raised his eyebrows and snickered. "Well I've come to learn it's a 'damned-if-you-do-damned-if-you-don't' type thing. I involve myself, people complain. If I don't others will.

"Then just do what you think is best."

"I do," he replied tiredly. "England, do you ever feel like you're just waiting. For someone or something to happen that makes our efforts seem less-"

"Futile?"

America rolled over and looked up to me. "Exactly."

"My, my, are you actually having deep and intellectual thoughts?"

"Those happen on occasion." We both laughed through our noses as I released the strand of his hair I had been entertaining.

"America, I have been alive much, much longer than you. I saw the Romans fall, I remember how ecstatic Europe was when the Earth was discovered round, and I remember when your forests were so empty and untouched it felt like I was on an alien planet." I sighed and took the glasses off his face. "I have very much so been waiting for something that makes all my experience and knowledge seem worthwhile. They say history repeats itself, but I think it's just a wheel. You get to the top only to return to the bottom and begin the process over and over and over again."

"Sure as hell seems that way, old man. You could solve every problem in the world only to have them decide they like kickin' your ass. So they find some other way to keep stickin' around."

"America, I must admit, you are very poetic in your ways of speaking the inner depths of your philosophical mind." He grinned for a moment.

"So who or what are you waiting for? Surely you would've found anything you needed by now."

I sighed and resumed running my fingers through his bangs. "I think that what I was waiting for, was something I lost out of mistake. I thought I was to wait for this person or thing to appear. But I realise now that it had appeared many many years ago, and that I was to find it."

"That didn't answer my question," he said with a laugh.

"I was looking for someone to tend to my wounds and care for me without ever wanting to leave. To hold me on rainy days and rescue me out of pitfalls. I was looking for someone to teach me things."

"Awful high standards you set for yourself."

I grinned and brought my gaze back to the fire. "I also only recently realised that I was waiting for an heir."

"To what?"

"A lineage that transcends both of us..."

America sat up and gave me a curious look. "So have you found those people?"

"They're the same person. Someone I abhorred for many years but can't seem to bring myself to depart from now."

America stared curiously at me, waiting for me to expand and tell him who. I gave a small smile, leant forward, and kissed his cheek.

"Now only he needs to realise it," I whispered before pulling away. America continued to look at me curiously as I stood up to retire early for the night.

* * *

><p>AN: This is kinda dumb posting this at the end of the chapter, but reading this chapter (actually this entire fic) listening to any songs by Secret Garden (especially Elegie), Ronan Hardiman, and some of the songs with Celtic tag (watch?v=pnmvxvOknt0 is particularly nice) set this really eerie, nice mood. At least it does for me, but that may be because I'm just the writer ahaha Anyway! One more chapter to go! Hope you guys enjoyed. C:<p> 


	9. Chapter 9

AN: Read this while listening to The Shape of Things to Come from Battlestar Galactica I dare you

* * *

><p>December 31, 2009<p>

Anticipation is often times a strange feeling; the horrible mixture of fear and excitement as you wait to see something you know you love. I stood looking at the clouded sky as the hour to the new year crept closer. I sighed and tightened my arms around my chest. There was a dull thud, but I shrugged it off as distant fireworks.

"Oh come one, you oaf..." I muttered. And then he came, his hands grabbing my face gently and pulling me into an uncomfortable kiss over my shoulder.

"Happy New Year's, England," America whispered. I smiled softly.

"Happy New Year's, America," I replied quietly before leaning in for another kiss. "You idiot... I thought you weren't going to make it back..."

America chuckled and then turned me around, kissing me again. He placed a hand on my cheek and grew a look of worry. "Your lips are trembling, you know? Just how long have you been waiting out here?"

There was a succession of far off fireworks, shouting their exclamations as I awkwardly bit my lip. "It doesn't matter... I can't even feel them anymore, you prat," I said more relieved than angry. He wrapped his arms around me and began kissing me again, the moment consuming us. Yes, I had experience more romantic settings, but the relief that came with this made it so enjoyable. I reached up and began to wrap my arms around him. Something was different.

"...Hey"

He hummed.

"I can't fit my arms around your waist. You're still getting fa-" I froze. There was a small dirty boy laying on the ground, his face buried into the floor. "A child? Is that the one from the phone?" The child moaned and sat up.

America bent over with a grin on his face. "I didn't think that you'd find me, but you followed me, huh? That's amazing! I didn't notice at all!" He picked up the child and they exchanged smiles.

"Making myself unnoticeable is one of my best skills!" he said with an accent I barely recognised.

"Oi, I was talking to you, git!" I shouted, utterly confused. "Ame-"

America grew a panicked look and slapped a hand on my mouth.

"I am Alfred F. Jones, okay?" he said, nudging his head to the kid. I shook from being cold, tired, and shocked. My legs felt like they were about to give out on me as a thousand memories flooded my mind and locks began to unclasp.

"Al- ...Alfred... You're Alfred," I said, trying to hide just how astonished I was. America looked at me with a grin. I tried to contain my surprise and excitement around the kid, but it was near impossible. After all these years, the man I was searching for America! Oh, if only the writers over in BBC could hear this.

"England, this guy is Arthur Kirkland! Ahaha, he's my lover!" America said gesturing to me.

"Who the hell is Arthur? Quit saying such strange things!" I shouted. The realisation was making me panic. The child blushed and looked at me with a look of disgust. At that point I knew exactly who the kid was but it felt odd saying it anyway.

"Lover...?" he asked. I walked unsurely over to him and stared at my own eyes. How much brighter they were than my own.

"Hey me... I mean you, hurry up and go back home!" I said. This situation really was getting the better of me. It made me comfortable beyond all else.

"I am not going to do that!" young me shouted.

"That's right, he just got here. He can't leave so suddenly!" America said. Oh for God's sake.

To make it worse, younger me smirked and then said, "I don't mind going home as long as Alfred can come with me."

"You can't do that! You're disregarding the disposition of history!" I shouted angrily. If watching Doctor Who (and attempting to read that blasted webcomic America loved) taught me anything, it was that time had an order, and that interfering with yourself could have drastic consequences. America touched my shoulder and caught my attention, his large eyes calming me down significantly.

"It'll be fine, just stop worrying..."

I deflated into a soft frown.

"I'll go prepare a bath. You both reek."

* * *

><p>I walked into the bedroom, America pulling the sheets over a damp, tired, much younger me.<p>

I smiled softly and stood beside them. "So basically... a thousand years ago you came along and seduced me when I was little." I watched as America grew a momentary look of annoyance.

"Sedu...? Don't make it sound like I am such a bad guy!" he hissed. I sighed and grabbed the chain hanging from his neck.

"But isn't it the truth? You suddenly show up and then you disappeared just as abruptly..." I said gently.

"But if I had said 'I am going home,' you would have cried and been angered," America said with a laugh.

"That's-" I was cut off as America lunged for my waist and pulled me onto the bed. "You idiot, little me is right over there!"

"It'll be fine, once a child falls asleep, they don't easily wake up."

I knew this to be an underestimate of younger me. I was extremely vigil as a child. But I relaxed anyway and softly said "...Alfred?" more of a genuine inquiry rather than an address.

"What is it, England?" he responded with the faintest of smiles. God, how I wanted to kiss him. He was the man I had been searching for all these long years and here he was beside me on a bed. So I did. And God, it felt different. It felt different because there was a sense of satisfaction and accomplishment. And when we stopped, I exhaled the most alleviating breath that had ever left my lungs.

"You were entirely too glorified... Your face is a lot more stupid than it is in my memories. I think I remembered you better than you are," I whispered. America tried to suppress his laughter.

"Just how long have you had that memory then, old man?" I snickered.

"I'm joking," I replied before laughing once. "I understand now, when I was little you did so much for me..."

"Huh? I just wanted to protect you... Even though your body was so small, you still struggled to do your best. You were so adorable and innocent... So I wanted to make you feel even more loved..."

My body warmed at the sentiment and after a moment of us looking into each other's painfully comfortable eyes America leapt. "A-ah... you idiot," I said muttered, not sure to be angry or go with it. He had me bent over and was rubbing my chest. "A-America..." I tried to protest. He just hushed me and continued. Now I was entirely undignified. I mean for God's sake there was a child in the bed!

The next thing heard was a disconcerted, "Alfred?" We both looked at the child with panicked, guilty faces.

"Eng-England?" he asked.

"Uhm... I have to piss..." Oh no.

Alfred flung himself towards the child and as both of us screamed 'no don't' the child did anyway.

* * *

><p>America stared at the washing machine for a few moments, my heart aching. He looked so saddened.<p>

I was wrong.

"Well that was odd!" he shouted with a grin. After the two weeks the younger me had stayed, I think it was safe to say both of us had grown a strange attachment. It was odd though. The closest thing to raising a child that we had ever experienced was taking care of an out of time, younger version of myself.

The child and I talked, and naturally (or unnaturally) bonded. I could not say I was unhappy at having Alfred to myself again, but I was not excited knowing a time loop was occurring where I was continually searching for nearly a thousand years.

I stared at America with wide eyes, looking at every feature on his face. From the softly pronounced cheekbones to his round cheeks, his face just looked beautiful. He stared back at me with a soft grin and laughed once. I smiled back, awkwardly and overwhelmed with different feelings.

I still could not get over the fact that I had found him. I had found him almost four centuries ago, and I did not even know it. And I had lost him too.

Bitterness mixed in with the relief and together the emotions overtook me; a smile and tears revealing themselves both at once. A perfect complement to show my feelings for the search that spanned all those centuries. America grew concerned and walked over to me, placing a hand on my shoulder.

"I had searched all those bleeding years to find you and yet I have had you for nearly half of them," I said, knowing what he was going to ask me.

"Doesn't that make you happy though? Knowing I came back like I promised and stayed by your side?"

I laughed, deeply and genuinely. After all, I was deeply and genuinely happy. "I am more happy than you could know, America," I whispered as I smiled as much as I could through the tears. He smiled back and pulled me into a crushing embrace. "Gentle now, love," I muttered. He eased up and chuckled.

"I guess it doesn't affect me that much considering it was just a few weeks for me."

"You enormous idiot. I spent nearly a millenium looking for you, you know?" I tapped his back and began swaying in the embrace. "I am honestly surprised I didn't break down like this sooner..."

He laughed and kissed my cheek. "Do you remember what happened to that acorn I gave back to ya?"

I smiled softly. "I planted it into a tree that lived for nearly two centuries."

"How did it die?"

"Struck by lightning and burst into flames."

"That sounds like a beautiful way for a tree to go."

I hummed and pressed my mouth against his ear. "And I stood nearby for hours, watching it. I watched as it shriveled up and didn't inflame any of the other trees. I watched as it was reduced to a stump how the rain slowly extinguished it. And I watched as the ash dried on the ground and provided the basis for new life to grow."

"What a noble tree..." America joked.

"And what happened to that talking flour ball I gave you?"

"Well I actually brought it up here for Christmas. I was going to show it to you and discuss memories... But it-"

"Followed you back in time."

"Yeah... Poor dude."

"The creature is stuck reliving the same millenia over and over," I said, the thought dampening my spirits considerably.

"Maybe it likes doing that," America said. I could feel his smile pressing into my cheek.

"Maybe... I am sure glad I don't have to."

America laughed and picked me up, spinning a few times. When he stopped, I tilted my head and kiss him. We parted smiling at each other.

"Remember how I said it seems like everything we do is just redundant as one problem leads to the next?"

"You say that all the time, you old fart," America said squeezing me.

"I know, but for once I feel... as if a problem has been resolved."

I sighed and reached up to fix his messy hair. He grinned stupidly at me.

"One that took me finding you, losing you, and finding you again. One that took a thousand years. One that allowed me to become 'lovers' with you. One that makes me feel as if the greatest accomplishment in technology and art could never compare."

America smiled and kissed my nose.

"I feel complete... And to think..." I paused and chuckled. "To make the whole thing conclude... to make this journey reach it's end... I just had to..."

I sighed and softly grinned.

"Appear."

* * *

><p>AN: I know the ending was kind of weak, but really at some point I just felt like recapping chapter 1 would be boring anyway. So oh well. Allegro and the Shape of Things to Come from Battlestar Galactica are great songs omg they gave me so much inspiration for this update<p> 


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